


Spellbinding

by Killuology



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - No Nen, Eventual Smut, Fluff and Angst, Homophobia, Hurt/Comfort, Illumi needs a hug, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Pastor's kid Illumi, Stargazing, but just go with it, my poor characterization skills, no betas we die like homosexuals
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-19
Updated: 2021-02-24
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:14:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 38,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28174482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Killuology/pseuds/Killuology
Summary: Illumi knows that he shouldn't like boys - not like this. It's on the list of things that he absolutely should not do. But, if God didn't want him to be gay, he really shouldn't have made Hisoka so damn spellbinding.Or, after years of stolen glances, Illumi happens to meet the most magical boy he's ever seen, and he can't decide whether he hates or loves him.
Relationships: Hisoka/Illumi Zoldyck
Comments: 78
Kudos: 183





	1. If Only Shopping Lists Were This Fun

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! If you happened to click on this story, thanks a lot. I'm not the best writer or anything (I mean really, what is this story), but I hope you like it anyway. I always appreciate comments or suggestions on how to improve my work! :D

This is how it starts - with Illumi rounding the corner behind his school building and seeing a certain boy leaning against the worn bricks, his red hair fanning over his eyes. The cement is cracked beneath his feet and he’s staring off into the woods that stand behind the school. Illumi recognizes him. He’s never spoken to Hisoka, not properly at least. Heeding his parents' advice, Illumi had steered clear of people like Hisoka. He was all messy dyed hair, stick and poke tattoos, ripped jeans - even on Sundays because he never went to church. The rumors surrounding him, that being who he was playing around with or what questionable things he chose to do, managed to reach all the way to Illumi. Hisoka's name was constantly on the tongues of the students at Westbrook high. Yes, Hisoka was the type of person Illumi’s parents told him to avoid. Naturally, he had been curious. He didn't go against anything he was told - only daring to steal glances of those magical kinds of boys across a classroom, wondering what it would be like to live like that. It wasn't worth it, he tended to tell himself.

“Do you have a lighter, by any chance?” Hisoka’s voice pulls Illumi from his train of thoughts and his eyes flick over to meet Illumi, lips forming into a sort of smile. Illumi scoffs. A lighter? 

So, Illumi doesn't know anything about Hisoka. He hadn't known that he smoked, hadn't known anything that wasn't included in the whispers that happened to pass by. He's an enigma, a puzzle waiting to be solved. Illumi has always jumped at the opportunity to crack a code. If he was lucky, he might even convince Hisoka to change. Even Illumi can admit that the idea of Hisoka, hair dyed back to normal and always in church on Sundays was a strange picture, but he has faith that it's within his capabilities.

A list. He'll start a list of all the things he had learned about Hisoka. One - Hisoka smokes. Something about the task feels like fraternizing with the enemy, but Illumi reminds himself that if everything goes according to plan, it would end up being for a good cause.

“You think to ask me of all people? Are you trying to ruin your lungs?” He responds, watching Hisoka pull a lighter out of his back pocket and bring the flame to the end of a hand-rolled cigarette. “And you had one the whole time? What was the point of asking me?”

“I was curious to see what you’d say. Didn’t expect you to say yes, anyway.” Hisoka blows a cloud of smoke in Illumi’s direction, causing him to cough. Illumi waves a hand through the smoke and squints at Hisoka. His eyes have already started to water from the smoke, despite its short duration. How can Hisoka stand it?

“And that doesn’t apply to me? You can't go around saying things like that if they don't apply to everyone-”

“I know it doesn’t apply to you. Don’t try to tell me you don't live by those silly rules. Your dad's the fucking pastor, after all."

Illumi wants to protest. And he would, could he find a fair response to the comment. Perhaps that would be easier if what Hisoka had said was completely untrue, but Illumi has enough self-awareness to admit to himself that he did tend to make decisions based on religious teachings. Somewhere along the line, his father had instilled in him a sort of list of rules. There are far too many rules for him to remember, so he had always stuck to remembering the ones his father emphasized as particularly important. That list of rules hadn’t changed since he learned them in elementary school, and if it were up to him they never would. Maybe this is where Illumi started to like making lists. He's not sure.

He could list them if someone ever asked, although Illumi knows they would not be of any interest to Hisoka. He lists them mentally, instead. For himself. Don’t lie. Don’t disrespect your parents. Don’t murder. Don’t steal. Scratch that - if it’s illegal you probably shouldn’t do it. That would cover a lot of them. And as his father loved to remind him, always love your neighbor and treat them better than yourself. Unless your neighbor was trans or gay or something - he's not sure of the specifics. Illumi got rather tired of hearing about how anyone who fell into those categories was a lost cause, but he put up with it anyway. Most of the rules seemed to be for the greater good, and although he tended to question the last one, he had decided to go along with it. He didn’t make God’s rules, and seeing that he didn’t fit into the categories listed, he tells himself that it shouldn’t matter. He’s Christian, and he’s cis, and he’s had a girlfriend for years. So if denying love to certain people was what it took to get into heaven, Illumi figured he could do that.

“Let’s say I do live by my book of rules. Why is that a bad thing?” Illumi refuses to meet Hisoka's eyes, instead choosing to look at his feet. The cement is decorated with gum and shards of glass. A soft chuckle bounces off the school building and floats into the woods. This is the second thing Illumi knows - Hisoka's laugh lilts like faint music; if he were laughing about something else, it would be infectious.

“I never said it was, my dear Illumi. Sounds like you’re projecting your own opinions onto me.” Hisoka replies with a smirk, stepping closer to him. The heels of his boots click against the pavement and Illumi watches with wide eyes. It still feels wrong to look up and meet Hisoka’s eyes - the thought of doing so makes the hair on Illumi’s arms raise. What would he find if he looked? Perhaps he would find cruelty, although something tells him that mirth is far more likely the culprit. If Hisoka had not intended to be cruel, Illumi finds that he was not doing a good job of fulfilling that intent. Cruel is the best word to describe the way Hisoka acts in jest, considering the reaction he elicits from Illumi. His heart is beating so hard he thinks it might pop out of his chest and his arms feel heavy at his sides. His feet are rooted to the spot which he decides is a real shame because if he were following any set of rules at all, he would turn on his heel and run as far away from that crazy boy as he could.

Yet something is intriguing in Hisoka’s cruelty. Illumi can’t put his finger on it - is it the carefree laughter? The painted nails? Is it the way that Hisoka seems to regard life as but a performance? Perhaps there is a space between loathing and curiosity, and perhaps that is what he feels. What the proper word is, he can’t say.

“Come on, don’t twist what I said. I know you think it’s a bad thing. You don’t have to tell me that for me to figure it out,” Illumi exhales as he speaks, but he finds that his voice comes out with a tremor he didn't know it would.

“All I’m going to say is that this silly book of yours stops you from doing a lot of fun things. I bet I’ve done everything those rules forbid you to do, and I’d do it again.”

“Are you meaning to say you’ve murdered someone?” Illumi knows that Hisoka has gone off the deep end to some extent but - really?

“And if I say I have?”

Thing number three - Hisoka may or may not be a murderer (?)

Illumi doesn’t know what to say. He knows that he can hear the blood rushing in his ears, and he knows that the sun is shining against the specks of glitter in the cement, and he knows that his parents are going to get worried if he stays for much longer. But he doesn’t know what he would say if Hisoka was a murderer. The safest option would be to abandon the little game he had started, but he's not sure that he could.

“Don’t worry. I haven’t.” Hisoka sets a finger under Illumi’s chin, forcing them to make eye contact. Illumi doesn’t know when Hisoka got so close or when he snuffed out his cigarette on the pavement, and he doesn’t know how Hisoka’s eyes look more yellow than green. Illumi is realizing that he doesn’t know much when it comes to the things that matter. He can’t even figure out how to get away from Hisoka’s touch as he watches those yellow stare back at him. Above all, he doesn't know what he finds in Hisoka's eyes. What's the right word for it? The amusement he finds is mixed with something Illumi would almost describe as lust and something else that he can't begin to explain. Why couldn't he look away? In any normal situation, someone staring at him like this would disgust him. He'd scoff and leave. But Illumi can say this isn't an ordinary situation; his heart doesn't usually race when other boys stare at him like this. It's not supposed to. “Too flustered to say anything, hmm? You’re no fun at all.” Hisoka continues before moving his hand to Illumi's chest to push him away. Illumi can feel his sharp nails through his shirt. Hisoka probably could've hurt him with the push if he wanted to; the rumors on his fights were evidence enough, not to mention the muscles that sat on his arms.

“What- what do you mean?” Illumi swallows. He squints against the setting sun and wonders if he’s playing dumb. After all, it would make plenty of sense for Hisoka to be playing with him as well. A game would be more fun with two people.

“Ah, I was hoping you would break some of your rules for me,” Hisoka says. He laughs and falls back against the brick wall again, rubbing his eyebrow. Illumi abruptly notices the hairs matted against blood. Had he gotten into another fight? “But I guess not. At least not now. I won’t pressure you, though. You can find me if you change your mind.”

“What kind of rules?” Illumi says. He shivers in the cool wind. There’s a nagging feeling that he knows exactly which rules Hisoka is talking about, but he swats it away like it’s a pesky bug.

“Oh, you know which rules I’m talking about. In any case, give me a call if you change your mind. You have my number, don't you?”

Illumi has forgotten that he has Hisoka’s number. He has practically everyone’s - so why should he remember that he happened to acquire the number of one Hisoka Morow? Hisoka didn't stand out anyway, he was like every other teenage delinquent who attended their school.

“Alright, Hisoka. But don’t get your hopes up. I have morals, unlike some of us.”

“Ah, so mean. Are you implying that I don’t?”

“I need to get going. My parents will be worried about me. Have a nice day, Hisoka.”

Illumi turns on his heel and walks away from the building. His car is waiting for him where he left it in the parking lot. Most of the cars have already left the parking lot. What time is it? Illumi shrugs as he enters the car and grimaces as the engine shudders to a start. He had been intending to get it checked out, but he hadn't gotten around to doing it. He'd put it on a to-do list, directly after to do: decide what you intend to do about Hisoka Morow.

Because Illumi now knew another thing about Hisoka. Number four: Regardless of which path he chooses to take, Hisoka is going to change him. For better or for worse, he figures he'll have to wait to find out.

***

Something that Illumi doesn't have on his list is what Hisoka's house is like. What would it be like? Is it like the house Illumi has just entered - cookie-cutter, like every other house on the street? Perhaps it’s more colorful, more unique, more like Hisoka himself. Maybe the table has chairs carved with swirls and curls like the eyeliner that sat on Hisoka's eyelids.

“Oh, you’re back, Illu,” Kikyo says, smiling. “Dinner is about ready, and I was getting worried about you. What were you doing?”

“Sorry. I stayed after to help one of my classmates with their homework. I’ll let you know next time.” The lie is almost too easy, Illumi thinks. That’s a rule. Broken. But if he wanted to play the game, wanted to learn more about those magical boys, he was going to have to learn how to break the rules without guilt. Sinning without feeling guilty about it wasn't second nature, but the lie slipped out without Illumi even having to think twice.

Maybe he felt so much guilt during his interaction with Hisoka that he can’t feel guilty anymore. Is that how sinning works? Like a deductible on insurance. God sure has a weird insurance company, Illumi thinks. Or perhaps all the guilt he racked up would hit him in the face at a later point - the reality of the game barreling towards him at a hundred miles per hour.

“Don’t worry about it. You were helping someone,” his mom says. Sure, he thinks. Helping someone fulfill their weird fantasy. Whatever kind of fantasy it was. Helping himself learn more about Hisoka, although the tidbits of knowledge he had acquired did nothing to quell his curiosity, on the contrary, if anything.

Illumi twirls spaghetti noodles around his fork as he listens to his parents chat at the dinner table. The information of the kids from his youth group and the secrets they shared with Illumi's father was more interesting than he would care to admit. It is free information for his lists, after all. It might not affect him, but who has a drug addiction or who is thinking of leaving the church is interesting to know. Illumi learned at a young age that his father has no understanding of secrets. If you were to ask Illumi, keeping a secret isn't technically lying, so it wouldn't be classified as a sin.

Like Illumi's game with Hisoka - he wouldn't be telling his parents about it, but if they never asked if he were talking to the other boy, it wouldn't count as a lie, now would it? He'd only need to find a way to apply the rules to the game. He couldn't - he wouldn't - let those yellow eyes break him down, even if he almost wanted them to. Even if he thought that maybe it would make him a magical boy as well.

"Are you feeling okay, Illu?" Kikyo starts, glancing over at Silva. "You seem kind of out of it today. I don't want you coming down with anything."

Illumi hadn't even noticed the blank look that overtook him as he thought about Hisoka. He frowns at the sudden realization and shakes his head to clear it.

"Hmmm? Yeah, I'm fine. I'm just tired. Maybe I'll go to bed early."

"That sounds like a good idea. Why don't you go upstairs after dinner, yes?"

Illumi nods and continues to listen to his father's gossip. He does his best to focus on the task at hand and not let himself get distracted, but it proves to be a difficult task. Spaghetti and meatballs seem rather dull in comparison to chasing flaming red hair through the woods behind the school like the main character of some YA movie.

Upon his mother's request, Illumi drags himself to his room after dinner, planning to go to sleep. He's not actually tired, but what else would he do? Emerging from his room would more than likely result in getting pestered with questions of what he was doing up. His parents didn't want him to get overworked.

So, he tries to go to sleep. The keyword here being "tries".

Illumi finds himself up past his regular bedtime, scrolling through his phone. Does Hisoka have an Instagram? He'd never bothered to check. What kind of photos would he have up? Would he ever even use the app or would he deem himself too high and mighty for it?

Lo and behold, the profile pops up as soon as he searches for it. Hisoka's feed is more put together than Illumi had expected, most of the photos having a red theme and a similar filter. What was the purpose of spending so much time on it?

Five: Hisoka is the type of person who probably cares way too much about what he posts on social media.

Illumi taps on the circle surrounding Hisoka's profile pic and raises an eyebrow as his story comes up. Of course, Hisoka is the kind of person to post shirtless selfies after he gets out of the shower. Illumi hadn't been expecting anything else but...

He feels his breath shudder as he stares at the photo. It's stupid, he thinks. It is. And it's wrong. But maybe if he's already guilted-out for the day there's no harm in having a little fun. This is what the game would entail, wouldn't it?

He rests his hand on his lower stomach, rubbing circles into the skin with his thumb, and oh my god he cannot believe he's doing this. Doing it in general, but more specifically, doing it while staring at a screenshot of some boy's story. Not just some boy's story - Hisoka's story. He's not sure if the pit in his stomach is from fear or arousal, but he can't find it within himself to care as he strokes himself.

Illumi has never cried while doing this before, and honestly, he thinks it's kind of pathetic. When he said that he was done with guilt for the day? Apparently, that was a lie. He isn't too far into the game to stop, was he? If it's always going to make him feel this bad, if it was going to make him do things that would make God hate him, maybe it would be better to stop before it got past a point he could control. Can it really be just a game?

But if someone were to ask him if he had just gotten off to the thought of Hisoka, Illumi would say no. Denial is a powerful force, and Illumi learns that at 1 am as he cleans himself off with a tissue.


	2. Broken Bones and Broken Promises

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey Hey Hey!!! Honestly, I'm not sure if anyone bothers to read these notes... sometimes I don't because I'm lazy but idk idk. Not really much to say here,, it's kind of a filler chapter but then again I feel like I write exclusively filler chapters... Anyways, I can't believe anyone read my first chapter cause it's a little bit the personification of a flaming trash can, but I'm telling myself the only way for me to improve my work is to keep writing.
> 
> Uhh yeah~ Also I'm slowly becoming a simp for Machi even though I can't at all remember what her character is like, which is definitely going to show in how I did her in this chapter. Well, it is what it is. 
> 
> If you're reading this around the time it comes out, Merry Christmas! It's been a wacky year, but I'm excited for all these nice Christmas vibes. I hope y'all are too.

A squeak sounds through the house as Illumi opens his door. He had intended to sleep in, but the sunlight streaming through his windows had awoken him. The morning was strikingly bright - the light filling the entire house like it was its own being. Illumi's bare feet hit the wooden floor, and he shivers in response to the cold.

Whispers drift his way from the kitchen, and he turns the corner to find his parents sitting at the table, talking in hushed voices. He frowns. He can't make out what they're saying, even as he approaches them. His father had never been one for secrets. What was the big deal?

“What are you talking about?” Illumi clears his throat, drawing attention to himself. He's leaning against the granite counter and staring at them pointedly. “Not that you have to tell me.”

“You haven’t checked Facebook?” Silva throws Illumi a glance. Why would he have? Illumi shakes his head in response.

“No, Dad,” Illumi chuckles, “Nobody under the age of 40 uses Facebook. It's basically obsolete.” He runs a hand through his hair. It's still tangled as it falls around his shoulders. After a moment of waiting, he finds that Silva isn't saying anything. "What is it?" He prompts.

“It’s about Machi. She says she’s gay.”

“A shame,” Kikyo joins in, getting up from the table. “She’s 18 now, anyway. So when she refused help from your Aunt and Uncle they didn’t have a choice. We’ll miss her though.”

The explanation isn't complete, but it doesn't have to be. Between conversations at family gatherings and the tone of his parents' voices, Illumi can infer what happened. He grinds his teeth together. What's the right thing to say? Precisely how is one supposed to respond to this?"

“I see…” Illumi swallows, eyes darting around the room. His aunt posted about kicking Machi out on Facebook? It wouldn't help her situation at all to have everyone know. Word would get around awfully quick. “That’s unfortunate.”

Illumi chews on his lip and turns around to find breakfast, but finds he’s lost his appetite. That’s okay. He had planned to meet up with his girlfriend for lunch, anyway. He opts instead to set the kettle on the stove. Its whistle breaks the silence that had settled over the family.

“So, what’s she going to do now?” Illumi sighs and turns around to face his parents again.

“Machi? I don’t know. That’s for her to figure out,” Silva says.

“So they're just cutting her off?”

“Well, yes.” Silva squints at Illumi. “If she isn’t willing to at least try to change, there’s no point in being close with her. You know how important it is to surround yourself with the right kind of people?”

Illumi inhales. Had his father heard about him talking to Hisoka? There wasn’t any way… and he always talks like this, questioning things. As long as it wasn't enough to raise suspicion, it would be okay. The knowledge of his own wrongdoings sits like a heavy stone in his stomach. It would be wrong to sit there and criticize Machi, right? At least Illumi was trying to be good, though. From the sound of it, Machi had entirely given up.

“Of course. I just worry that we could’ve gotten through to her with time,” The words taste bitter as they exit his mouth. But are they wrong? Illumi supposes not. He’s sure she can change if she tries. After all, less than twelve hours ago he had made that exact resolution. To change. If he could force those yellow eyes out of his head, he's sure that Machi can find a way to do the same. “I don’t want to think of her as a lost cause. She means a lot to me.”

“I know you have good intentions, Illumi. But if she has no desire to change there isn’t anything we can do for her. I’m sorry.”

Illumi doesn’t respond. He doesn’t want to lose someone he loves. He hates calling it a stupid reason, but it’s a stupid reason to lose someone you’ve grown up with. When it was someone else’s family member it was different - he could nod and agree with their choice, but when it was someone who he loved? Could he change her mind? Might she listen if he talked to her? It’s at least worth a try.

The mug scalds his hands as he carries it back to his room. Except for the whispers from the kitchen, the house had been silent. Would his parents tell his younger siblings when they woke up? Illumi figures they'll tell Milluki - he's old enough to understand, and as far as Illumi can remember, has never shown any sign of doubting the church. Killua would be a toss-up. He was a little young, but then again, Silva and Kikyo hadn't held back from lecturing him about similar things when he was that age. But Alluka and Kalluto. What would they be told?

Illumi doesn't think someone so young could possibly comprehend a parent losing their love for a child. Sin didn't matter enough for that - as far as his youngest siblings were concerned, their parents would love them no matter what they did.

The hot tea splashes around the side of his mug as he sets it down. Illumi hisses as it hits his hand, and he brings it to his mouth to suck on the burn. Shaking his head, he reaches for the phone sitting on his nightstand table. The Instagram tab is still open. Illumi's breath catches in his throat, but he closes out of the tab and sits back down in the chair sitting in front of his desk.

The phone rings.

“Illu?” Illumi hears his cousin on the other side of the line. Her voice breaks as she speaks and Illumi swallows. “What’s up?”

“Oh, I just wanted to check in on you,” Illumi starts, “You know, I heard about....”

“Yeah. I figured you would.”

“I’m going to miss you.”

“I’ll miss you too.” Machi's voice carries a note of melancholy that Illumi tries to not focus too much on.

He glances out of his window and into the trees behind his house. When Machi and Illumi were younger, they would climb the trees until they were so high up they thought they could fly. Machi had called for his parents when he foolishly decided to test the hypothesis. She had ridden with him to the hospital where he would be told he shattered his arm and might never use it the same way again. She went with him to his physical therapy appointments and had nearly cried the first time he wrote with his left hand again.

Illumi would do anything to keep her in his life.

“You know I was just thinking,” Illumi takes a deep breath and shakes his head. Is he about to stand up to her? “Is there a reason you didn’t want to… you know, change?”

“Change? You realize it doesn’t work like that, right?” Where Illumi expects to hear poison lacing Machi’s voice, he finds a soft drizzle, a sort of kindness that he has never heard her speak with before, despite everything they had been through together. “If I could change, I would. I still love my family, but they won’t ever love me for who I truly am.”

“Well, I had thought-” Illumi glances around the room and lowers his voice. “If I have problems with same-sex attraction and I’m still straight you could do it too? Like boys are cool and all, but I can tell myself no, so why can't you? I know it’s selfish and that’s wrong but it’s only because I love you and want to be able to have you in my life.”

“Illu?”

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.”

“You’re going to get upset with me, but I need you to listen, okay?” Upset? Illumi hasn’t ever been upset at Machi, or at least not in a way that mattered. Their fights never went past who was going to get a larger slice of cake or more dinosaur nuggets because despite what Illumi says, he never really grew out of them. “If you aren’t straight, ignoring those feelings isn’t going to change who you are. All it’s going to do is make you hate a big part of yourself. I can say that I’ve been this way for as long as I can remember. Repressing that won’t make you a better person and it sure as hell isn’t going to make you more holy.”

For as long as she could remember? Illumi lets himself close his eyes. For as long as she could remember. Did he remember anything?

Illumi is 10 years old when Chrollo asks him if he likes a girl. He says no. Chrollo laughs. That has to be a lie, he tells Illumi. That’s only what people say when they’re too scared to say who they like. But it isn’t a lie. Sure it isn’t, Chrollo says. Illumi’s brain searches through the girls they go to church with. Pakunoda. He has a crush on Pakunoda, he says. He hopes he’s a good actor. Chrollo says he knew it all along.

Illumi is 12 and is spending the night at Chrollo’s house. Chrollo never falls asleep first, but he’s been busy all day, so Illumi isn’t shocked when he asks him to pass the popcorn and gets no answer. He would feel bad to leave him lying in such an uncomfortable position in the recliner. He’s abruptly aware of their closeness as he picks Chrollo up and carries him to the bed, getting into the covers next to him. He lingers a little too long on Chrollo's face, noticing the way his eyelashes fall softly over his cheek. Have they always been this long? He wishes he could see him like this more often - without those creases of stress along his face. He’s being a good friend, he tells himself. He just wants Chrollo to be less worried.

Illumi is 14 when Chrollo tells him that his family is moving across the country. His mother got a great job offer, he says. She’ll probably even make enough money for him to go to his dream college. Illumi hugs him. He’s excited for him. He doesn’t want Chrollo to see how much it hurts to say goodbye. After all, nobody else in their friend group takes it as hard as Illumi does. When he gets home he locks himself in his room and cries until he can’t find any more tears, and then he searches inside himself to find more. When his parents ask him why he’s so sad, Illumi tells them that he can’t imagine his life without Chrollo. He says that he wishes he could spend the rest of his life being friends with him. He says that him without Chrollo isn’t him at all.

“You’re wrong,” Illumi seethes, grating his teeth together, “You can change who you love as much as I can, so don’t give me all that crap.”

“Am I wrong, though? Don’t be mad. If anyone has the right to anger, it’s me. But I just feel sorry for you.”

Illumi swallows. He doesn’t need her pity. Unlike Machi, he’s doing very well having a girlfriend. He loves Shizuku. He knows she could change if she would just try, and yet…

“I have to go.”

Illumi hangs up.

He’s meeting up with Shizuku soon anyway. He throws his phone onto the bed and walks over to his bookshelf, picking up a small box and setting it in his bag. He made sure to pick out the gift long in advance, Shizuku had flamed him for forgetting their anniversary the year before, and Illumi had sulked for weeks. When he asked her what her love language was, she had said it was gift-giving. It’s easier to have a girlfriend with a guide like that - telling him precisely how he should express love to her.

Illumi clears his mind and forces himself out of the front door and down the road to a small coffee shop that they had agreed to meet at.

Shizuku is great at giving gifts, he thinks as he looks at the journal he holds in his hands. She always seems to know exactly what he wants, and if anything Illumi’s jealous that their relationship seems to come so naturally to her.

He sets the journal on the table and moves her hair to close a small pendant around her neck. She gives him a smile, and he forces the corners of his mouth to turn upwards in a similar manner.

“Thanks, Illumi,” Shizuku says, pulling her hair to the side and braiding it down her chest. “It’s been a really great day.”

“Of course. I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

“I did,” she sighs, sitting back in her chair. “I love you, Illu.”

“Oh-” Why is he taken aback? It’s not like she hasn’t said this before. He chews on the inside of his cheek and drums his fingers against his thighs. “I love you too.”


	3. Please Don't Break the Glass

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slow burn? I don't know her. (It's because I have the patience of a three-year-old on Christmas morning.) Hisoka is a little bit of a jerk in this chapter, but I guess it's ok cause he's hot.
> 
> Uhhhh yeah thanks for reading if you made it this far lmao

The light that cascades into the church is red and yellow and green as it filters through the stained glass. Two clear windows are next to the colored ones, outside is the sidewalk and the parking lot. Bookshelves sit at the sides of the rooms, and Illumi is curled up in a chair. A pile of books lay on a dark wooden table - many are left open, half-read; others are missing pages. Illumi has left his homework scattered about in an attempt to avoid doing it. Instead, he's running a highlighter along the pages of his bible and humming under his breath. 

He glances towards the window and squints against the sun. A knocking noise startles him as he watches a rock hit against a window. Illumi frowns, rubbing his eyes. Maybe a squirrel had thrown it? Can squirrels even throw rocks? Illumi doesn't think they have opposable thumbs. No, it couldn't be a squirrel.

The noise sounds again and Illumi stands before walking to one of the smaller clear windows. He places his hand over his face as he's greeted by Hisoka in a nearby tree. Hisoka is waving to him and Illumi is trying his best to not give a response, but the curiosity does begin to overtake him. What's Hisoka even doing here?

“Open up the window!” The window muffles Hisoka's voice. Illumi considers pretending he can’t hear him. Two yellow eyes are stuck on Illumi as he looks in the other direction. “If you don’t open up I’ll jump off the tree,” Hisoka teases, sticking his tongue out.

Illumi is glad that everyone else has already left the building. His father would roast him for letting someone like Hisoka inside, but he finds he can’t stop himself from opening the latch on the window and letting Hisoka crawl inside. Illumi sighs - he wasn't supposed to keep hanging around Hisoka. He was supposed to quit the game. 

“Be more careful with the rock next time. I’m never in the mood to explain how the stained glass got shattered to my father.”

“Oh, this implies there will be a next time?”

“Shut up,” Illumi feels a blush spread across his cheeks and turns so the other boy can’t see it. “What do you want?”

“I was just bored. I thought it would be fun to come and hang out. All my other friends were busy anyway.”

“A, I’m not your friend,” Illumi says, running his hands through his hair. “And B, you have friends?”

“You wound me, Illu.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“In any case, I’ll have you know that I do have friends. I just don’t regard them as being as entertaining as I do you.”

Illumi rolls his eyes. What’s that supposed to mean? 

“Show me around, will you? I’ve never been here before.”

Of course, you haven’t, Illumi thinks. He wouldn’t expect anything else. As a matter of fact, if Hisoka told him he was in a cult, Illumi wouldn’t find it hard to believe. He leaves his bible open on the table and stands.

“Why? Why do you even care?”

“I’m only curious, Illu. After all, what harm is it?”

Hisoka steps closer, nearly trapping Illumi against the wall. Illumi swallows. He’s not sure if it’s better or worse now that there’s a word to go to the feeling. He is sure that he should not be feeling it standing in a church, but who is he to change Hisoka’s choices? He couldn’t even change the choices of someone who would listen to him, who considered him worth listening to. The only choices he can control are his own, which is why he chooses to clear his head with a shuddering exhale. He must stand strong.

“I take it you aren’t religious?” Illumi glances down at Hisoka’s lips for a moment, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth.

“Not particularly.”

“So you aren’t a part of anything? Unless you’re in some crazy cult.”

“Me? In a cult?” Hisoka laughs. Illumi watches his face scrunch up and unfortunately, he thinks it’s almost adorable. Someone like Hisoka? Adorable? Illumi doubts his own sanity. If only he could turn away and hide his face.

“It’s not such a far-fetched idea.”

“If anyone is in a cult here, it’s you, Illu.”

Illumi’s gaze darkens. He feels a pressure build up in his chest and pushes Hisoka off him. Him? In a cult? Choosing to ignore the implication of the comment, Illumi throws a glance to the open books on the table.

“Fine, Hisoka. I’ll show you around.” He leads the other boy to the door. “And I told you not to call me that.”

****

Their steps echo through the building as Illumi leads Hisoka down the curved staircase and into the main part of the church. Thank god there’s nobody sitting in the pews - not that anyone besides his family could’ve gotten in, but he’d rather nobody find him in the church with Hisoka. The guilt clawing up his throat was bad enough as it was. Illumi's not sure what he feels so guilty about. After all, all he's doing is showing someone around the church. 

“So… this is the main area.” Illumi tries to find something to say. It looks like any other church. Surely Hisoka has at least seen one on TV. 

“I see.” Hisoka laughs. Illumi can’t figure out whether he’s laughing at him or not, but he also finds that he doesn’t care. “Do you come here to pray? To do your little confessions?”

“No,” Illumi frowns. How little does Hisoka know about Christianity? “I’m not Catholic. My family is baptist, so we don’t do confession.”

“That’s a shame. I always thought confessing your sins to some random man was that extra spice in Christianity. Guess not.”

Extra spice? Illumi decides to not linger on what he meant by that, and instead brings him into his father’s office. There are theological books stacked messily on the bookshelves and some papers sitting under the desk, but otherwise, it’s spotless. Silva even dusted. A hand run across the top of a picture frame shows that Silva has dusted even there. Illumi always found it strange that he kept his office so clean, especially considering the perpetual state of their house. Between his parents, his mother had always been the only one to clean up the house. If Silva could keep his office in order, surely he could help out around the house?

“So, this my father’s office. He keeps his stuff here and uses it for meetings with people,” Illumi says and sits on top of his father’s desk. Silva wouldn’t be pleased to see Illumi doing as much, but he figures that if his father were to walk in at that moment, the desk would be the least of his concerns.

“Hmm, what’s it like having the Silva Zoldyck as your father?”

“What do you mean? It’s not like he’s famous or anything.”

“Well, he sure seems to be famous around here. Do you have an early curfew? Do you get punished if you break his rules?”

“Well, it’s not like I do anything that deserves punishment in the first place.” Illumi watches Hisoka walk closer, his footsteps echoing out the open door and around the hallways. He reaches behind Illumi to lower the blinds.

“Never?” Hisoka says and sets his hands against Illumi’s thighs. He pushes outward, and Illumi obliges, allowing Hisoka to step between his legs. Illumi’s breath wavers. The pictures of him and his family hanging on the wall start to fade into a blur, until all that’s left is just Hisoka’s eyes staring into his and the pressure of his hands against Illumi’s thighs. 

A million little voices are yelling inside Illumi's head all at once, and he's not sure if he should listen to the ones telling him to run away or the ones telling him to do something incredibly rash, because Hisoka's standing in front of him like this and he looks really really hot. The game is the last thing the voices seem to care about. After a moment of consideration, the far less rational voices seem to win out as Illumi places a hand over Hisoka's on his thigh.

“Can I kiss you?” Illumi isn’t sure where the words came from. He pushes any guilt from his head and stares at Hisoka hard - like it would kill him to look away, and in all honesty, he's starting to think it might. Staring at Hisoka like this, staring through that front deep into the depths of him, it's like breathing in a way that Illumi has never breathed before. There's a flash of hesitation that runs through Hisoka's eyes, and Illumi wonders if he's said something wrong. Was it possible that Hisoka never wanted him like this anyway? Illumi wouldn't know; he doesn't know what Hisoka wants at all. 

“I thought you’d never ask,” Hisoka responds. The hesitation is gone from his eyes as he speaks. 

Illumi feels the wave of heat rise up into his face as Hisoka leans in, his breath fanning over Illumi’s lips. Illumi thinks that Hisoka being this close shouldn’t be near as hypnotic as it is. It probably shouldn't feel this way - addicting and confusing, and somehow so much more so than when he kisses his girlfriend. Yet, he opens his lips as an invitation for the other. 

Feeling Hisoka’s lips on his is like living and dying all at the same time. Illumi thinks so, at least. He’s not sure when he lets himself soften into Hisoka’s grip, hands running through red hair and pulling so hard it wouldn't surprise him if he ripped some out. The gel breaks and cracks underneath his fingers, leaving bits of it underneath Illumi's fingernails. Fingers are gripping his thighs so hard he thinks there might be bruises the next day.

He feels Hisoka push him further onto the desk, his hands running up and down Illumi’s sides. He’d always heard that making out with someone like this, their tongue in your mouth and your hands in their hair, would feel like electricity. He’d always made fun of people who spoke like that, but he couldn’t come up with a different description, despite his creativity. Hisoka’s hands slipping under his shirt and running over his ribs sends sparks flying. He lets himself open his mouth, honestly whining, because apparently, he has lost all his remaining dignity. He hears Hisoka chuckle as he whines against his mouth. 

Hisoka is the first to pull away and honestly? He’s a wreck. His hair is messed up and there’s some sort of tinted chapstick spread along the corners of his mouth. And he looks good, Illumi thinks. He hadn’t expected angels to look like seventeen-year-old boys who have too much gel in their hair and more yellow than should be possible eyes, but maybe he was wrong because he was pretty sure that he had just gotten a glimpse of heaven, if only for a fleeting moment.

“That was nice.” Hisoka’s voice is raspy as he pulls away. He re-opens the blinds and wipes his mouth off on his sleeve. “Wouldn’t have expected you to do that so often.”

“I- I don’t.” Illumi is surprised to find that his voice is similarly tired. He clears his throat and averts his eyes.

“Well, you could’ve fooled me. Come on, we have a tour to finish, don’t we?”

"Right. The tour."


	4. Bright Purple Guilt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Machi tries to show Illumi what his life could be.

Before he knows it, Illumi's laying on his bed and muffling sobs into his pillow. All his actions, the things that had meant to be small and insignificant, had become building blocks that were stacked far too high for him to bear. Like some kind of horror movie, the images are stuck on repeat in Illumi's mind. 

What was he thinking? He knew better. He knew that he would feel guilty for the rest of his life for making out with Hisoka in his church, but he did it anyway. How could it have been so easy to let himself give in? Illumi wipes his hands across his face, smearing the tears. He laughs. How fucking stupid was he? All his judgment had flown out the window the moment that Hisoka entered it and he hardly questioned it the whole time. It wasn’t like he could play it off as Hisoka coming onto him. He had asked him. 

He had asked Hisoka to kiss him.

It was a mistake. 

Regret lodges itself in his throat; he coughs through hot tears in an attempt to get it out. If it does, it will surely stain his bed bright purple, so evident that his parents would know what he had done. Illumi feels the guilt curl deeper into his chest as if to say look at me. I'm part of you now. You made one choice that brought this demon into you and now you'll never get rid of me, no matter how long you live, because no amount of prayer will make me leave. 

Illumi tries.

It doesn't work.

As a last ditch attempt, he finds himself unlocking his phone and texting Machi. 

Only a couple of hours later, he's leaving his house under the excuse of helping someone study and driving his car into town. He notices the red beetle as it sits in the parking lot of the restaurant. Maybe he should turn the car around. If he could just run away, move away, get away from all the thoughts in his head, maybe everything would be okay. Machi wasn’t about to tell him what he wanted to hear, so why had he come in the first place?

Then again, what other option had he had? 

He unlocks the car and steps out, the cold wind whipping against his skin. Cold wind whips against his cheeks. With a grimace, he opens the door and sees Machi sitting in a booth next to the door. She waves at him. Illumi feels like his legs are made of lead as he walks towards her and slips into the booth on the opposite side. His arms feel strange as he sets them on his lap and takes a deep inhale. 

“Hi,” Machi says. Illumi jumps and turns to face her, his lips tightening into a thin line.

“Hey. How are you?”

“I’m - You know, I’m doing okay. What about you?” Illumi hesitates. Is this the right time to bring up everything that had happened? He glanced around and noticed that the restaurant was near empty, but there was still a pit in his stomach that stopped him from answering truthfully. 

“I’m alright.”

“It sure didn’t sound that way before, but I’ll let you take your time.”

Illumi rolls his eyes and laughs. Seeing Machi’s face felt a little like coming back home after a long vacation, perhaps one that had lasted years. Illumi starts to feel the tension release and he opens his menu to look through the options. When was the last time he went to a restaurant? His family never made a habit of eating out. 

“What have you been up to?” Illumi settles on a dish and closes his menu, looking back at Machi. “Since everything happened.”

“I moved in with my girlfriend. In all honesty, it wasn’t all that unexpected. We had already talked about what would happen if my parents found out. The transition wasn’t exactly smooth, but I made it work.”

“Oh. That’s good to hear. What about after you graduate?”

“I have enough scholarships to work my way through college with minimal debt, so I guess I’ll do that. I’m honestly happier to be living away from them. I thought it would be so scary when they found out, but once the confrontation part was over and done with I was able to move on.”

“You don’t miss them?” How could she not? Illumi could only imagine leaving everything he knew as a child. Wasn’t it hard?

“Well sure I do, sometimes. But I like to tell myself that if they ever loved me they still would, and since they don’t there’s no use dwelling on it. I have people in my life who I do love, and that’s all that matters.”

Illumi nods. That makes sense. Living with a family that detests you? Illumi’s not sure he would be able to take it either. Although, he would just change if he were in that situation. In fact, he came here for a purpose. That purpose, he reminds himself, is not to worry about Machi. 

“Speaking of which, I kind of messed up.”

“Oh, no,” Machi says, her face scrunching up as she chuckles. “What did you do?”

“I may have um…” Illumi lowers his voice, “I may have made out with a boy in the church. On the table in Father’s office, to be more exact.”

Machi’s face breaks into a grin as she laughs. She slaps a hand over her mouth. Illumi’s not sure what’s so funny.

“Don’t laugh at my predicament.”

“I’m sorry, it’s just funny. A couple of days ago you were talking about praying the gay away and now you’re not only being gay but being gay in a church? That’s kind of iconic.”

“I’m not gay…”

“And yet you made out with a boy? And you obviously liked it, you wouldn’t be so red right now if you didn’t.”

“That doesn’t make me gay. I’ve already decided I’m not going to do it again. I have a girlfriend, Machi.”

“Oh, shit,” Machi says, “I forgot about Shizuku. But if you’re cheating on her you should probably stop to consider why that is.”

“I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that, because I’m really not in the mood for introspection. In any case, I figure as long as I don’t do it again it’s not a sin?” 

“Why do you think it’s a sin anyway?” Machi stops smiling and leans across the table. “Seriously.”

“Isn’t it, though? That’s what Father always says.”

“And you choose to trust him? I’m pretty sure I was made this way, so I highly doubt I’m going to hell for something that I didn’t choose. If you’re gay, Illu, that’s okay. There’s nothing wrong with that, and you don’t have to figure it out now but you’ll be miserable if you repress it forever.”

Illumi stares at his hands. She has a point, doesn’t she? It’s not like he wanted to feel anything when he looked at Hisoka. It wasn’t a choice. He just did. Could Machi really know more about the world, more about God, than his father?

“Moving on, who?”

“What?” Illumi takes a sip of his water but starts to choke as he realizes what Machi is asking. He hits his fist against his chest and clears his throat. “Oh, you mean-”

“Yeah, who did you make out with? You can’t tell me something like that and not expect me to ask for details.”

“I don’t think you want to know.” Illumi can’t guarantee that Machi knows who Hisoka is, but he’d be surprised if she didn’t hear his name in passing. Weren’t they in the same grade? That would mean that Hisoka would be graduating in a few months. Illumi decides to not unpack why it is that his stomach churns at that thought.

“Come on, it can’t be that bad.”

“I don’t know, Machi. It was… a choice. We all make choices, but that was... a choice. Yeah.”

“Just tell me. I won’t judge, promise.” Machi holds out her pinky and Illumi squints back at her. He gives in after a few seconds and wraps his own finger around hers. 

“Fine,” Illumi says with a sigh. He already regrets giving in. “I might have made out with Hisoka. Maybe. Theoretically, it could’ve happened.”

“Hisoka?” Machi laughs again. “Don’t go getting your heart broken or anything, okay?”

Illumi feels like he’s being made fun of. He knows it’s a possibility that Hisoka is only trying to get into his pants, hell it’s probably the reality. Maybe it would be a good idea to protect himself from getting his heart broken. If he would just stop like he had been planning to all along…

“Yeah, I’m doing my best. Honestly, I’m not even sure how it all started.”

He’s even lying to Machi now. Of course, he knows how it started. He knows this whole situation started with a cigarette and yellow eyes. He decides that it’s going to stop the moment he walks out of that restaurant. He hadn't ever come into contact with Hisoka before their first meeting, how hard could it be to avoid him? If he couldn't pray the interest away, he could get rid of it by stopping himself from ever making contact with Hisoka again.

He would go back to church on Sunday with a clear mind because everything would be okay.

Illumi has a suspicion that's not how it's going to happen. He’s trying to clear his mind but all he can think about is being in that church with Hisoka because there's not a single place he's allowed to feel entirely himself anymore. When he walks into the church and sees the pews and the books and the stained glass windows all he can think of is whispers and yellow eyes and hands underneath his shirt.

And Illumi is devastated. The last hope he had, the last solace he had in God, is gone. If he could go back and stop himself from walking around that corner and seeing Hisoka for the first time, he would. But he knows there is no undoing the past, so he has to change his actions in the future.

"You're thinking," Illumi looks up at Machi as she begins to speak. "What about?"

"If I avoid him, will all of this go away? Can I go back to being myself again?"

"This is you, Illumi. This is who you are. It might take some time to be okay with that but try. Please."

"I- I can't."

"For me. Please."

Illumi swallows. A future with someone like Hisoka, a husband, kids, a family - he can see himself happy like that. As wrong as it is, he feels his heart swell at the idea. Could it be possible? To be like Machi - so free from conviction, from these beliefs that kept his guilt buried deep inside him. Even if being with another man barred him from going to heaven, could it be that it would be worth it to experience everything his life could offer him?

"Okay. I'll try my best."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I really hate editing, but I'm finding I have to. Hopefully, everyone had a good holiday. I've been using my break to watch wayyy too much anime, but maybe I should've been using it to figure out how to write.. oh, well. Binging anime is too important. 
> 
> Let me know what you thought if you want to but you don't have to or anything :) Ummmm yeah that's all I have this time.


	5. Stay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A rash decision leads to a new bond.

If you were to ask Illumi why he had chosen to take Machi's advice, he would have spewed something about trying to make her happy. She had lost her family. He figures its at least half-true, the other half being comprised of his own desire to get closer to Hisoka. 

When he texts Hisoka, Illumi isn’t sure if he’s going to get a response. But soon enough, he has the older’s address. Illumi’s not sure what the etiquette is for going to someone’s house to make out with them. He'd never thought about doing it before, let alone actually done it. When his parents told him you learn something new each day... well, this probably isn't what they meant by that. Nonetheless, he is learning something new. 

His hesitation before sending the text is brief and fleeting as if for just one second the regret was daring to bubble back up his throat. With a tap of his finger, he sends the words hurdling through cyberspace and into the palm of a boy with safety pins in his ears and sparks in his eyes. Illumi waits. His heartbeat is loud in his ears; he can practically hear the blood being pushed around his body. One tapping finger does it's best to alleviate his anxiety. 

The phone buzzes, and Illumi has Hisoka's address. 

Hisoka had told him that the back door would be open and his room would be on the second floor; he should let himself in. Illumi shakes his head and walks towards the porch. He finds that Hisoka was being honest and the door opens with a soft click. He doesn’t see anyone else around - maybe his parents are out? He should probably ask what they were up to, just to be safe. 

A gaze cast upwards as he enters the kitchen shows that Hisoka's house does not have popcorn ceilings. There aren't any chips in the counters; the grout from the floor tiles hasn't begun to break. It looks, Illumi thinks, nothing like his own house. It was larger, nicer, and undeniably less personal. 

He climbs the stairs, letting his hand run along the dusty railing. Perhaps if he takes his time he will change his mind - just run and get away before he does something he’ll end up regretting. His shoes click against the wood floor. Illumi sees a light coming out from under a door. That must be Hisoka’s room.

His hand lingers on the doorknob.

Hisoka is sitting in a chair by his desk when Illumi turns the knob and walks in. He’s not sure if he’s supposed to knock beforehand, but it seems far too late to do that. Illumi grinds his teeth together and shuts the door behind him. Should he have taken his shoes off at the door? He bends down and unties them, taking them off and setting them next to Hisoka’s door.

“You made it,” Hisoka says, spinning his chair around so that he can face Illumi. A small smile spreads across his face and Illumi nods.

“I did.” What else is he supposed to say? Illumi feels like the thermostat is several degrees too hot. The room has become unbearably stuffy. He stares back at Hisoka, waiting for a response.

“I never thought you would actually ask to meet up.”

“Oh…” Maybe he doesn’t want Illumi there after all? He probably acts like that with everyone. It was probably a mistake to read anything into it. Maybe it would be better if he left and they put all of this behind them. “Do you want me to go?”

“No! Not at all. I just thought I’d have to make all the moves,” Hisoka licks his lips and plays with his hands. For a moment, Illumi thinks he sees Hisoka’s confidence flicker. Hisoka being nervous? He’s always so confident. A traveler alone in the desert, Illumi isn't shocked when he sees the mirage fade. Hisoka wouldn't be the nervous type. “I’m really glad you’re here.”

Hisoka stops playing with his hands and Illumi shudders as he hears Hisoka’s voice take on its tone from their previous engagements. Illumi steps closer, chewing on the inside of his cheek. His legs feel heavy and he struggles to control his breathing. He is keenly aware that he is being watched, and he can’t decide if it makes him uneasy or if some crazy part of his brain actually likes being observed so meticulously. It's like every part of him is being deconstructed, laid out in front of Hisoka, ready to be criticized and torn apart and ruined. 

Illumi feels Hisoka’s hands come up to meet the nape of his neck. His fingers rub small circles against Illumi’s skin, and Illumi sees him chuckle. Soon enough, Hisoka is playing with the baby hairs along his neck. Illumi feels some of the tension start to unravel and he lets himself stop thinking for just a moment. 

He pushes Hisoka back into his chair and swings one leg over so he can sit in his lap. He places his hands along Hisoka’s waist and smiles at him. When had the tremor left his hands? Illumi isn’t sure, but it’s a welcome departure. He takes a breath before he begins to speak again, not fully trusting his mouth to say what he wants it to.

“Is this okay?” He lets his hands trail along the front of Hisoka’s chest. Now that he’s less rushed, he figures he can really figure out what Hisoka’s body is like. He hadn’t been aware of how muscular the older was the time before. Maybe he played a sport? Illumi resolves to ask later. 

Hisoka hums in approval and moves his hand to hold Illumi’s face. He runs a finger along his cheek. Illumi watches his eyes and tries to place what he finds in them. If most people were difficult to read, Illumi figures Hisoka is impossible. Maybe, he thinks, this is what draws him to Hisoka.

“And is this?” Hisoka leans in to let his breath ghost over Illumi’s lips. Illumi nods in response. Hisoka tilts his chin up to connect their lips. Illumi sighs at the already familiar feeling and lets himself get lost in the rhythm. His hands move up Hisoka’s chest to wrap around the back of his neck. 

Illumi feels Hisoka’s tongue press gingerly into his mouth and he opens, letting Hisoka kiss him and hold him. Illumi feels everything come together like this and it hits him all at once that this is where he is meant to be. He’s not meant to be at the church praying and asking for forgiveness, he’s meant to be right here, in Hisoka’s lap with drops of saliva forming at the corners of his mouth. It clicks that he has known this fact the entire time. He has always known that he feels more from just looking at Hisoka than he ever did from doing anything at all with Shizuku. 

Shizuku. He should feel guilty, he thinks. He should feel terrible that he has a girlfriend but he’s still meeting up with some boy from school and letting him shove his tongue down Illumi’s throat. But something inside him can’t find the guilt anymore. Not like this, when everything is so wonderful and perfect and Hisoka is holding him like it’s exactly where he belongs.

Illumi shoves Shizuku out of his brain because he really doesn’t want thoughts of her ruining his little slice of heaven. He sighs into Hisoka’s lips and brings one of his hands around to the front of Hisoka’s neck, and before he even realizes what he’s doing he’s pressing down into Hisoka's lap and getting rewarded with breathy moans, although he's not sure if they came from Hisoka or himself. 

Illumi feels like there’s lava being poured all over his body, but he absolutely does not hate it. He revels at the feeling of Hisoka whining against his lips and lets his other hand travel back down Hisoka’s chest to rest at his hip. Illumi feels the pressure in his hair stop as a hand moves its way towards his stomach. Hisoka lets it rest there for a second before going lower and it all hits Illumi far too fast.

He takes his hand off Hisoka’s hip to grab his arm because, no even if he wants to be touched so badly he thinks he might explode, that's only going to make it more real. Hisoka pulls his face away, separating their lips. He’s frowning slightly and Illumi feels his stomach lurch. Has he done something wrong? Is Hisoka about to kick him out for stopping him, because Illumi doesn’t want to leave right now. 

“Do you not want to…” Illumi is taken aback by the softness in Hisoka’s eyes. He feels his heart skip a beat and he stares back. 

“I just…” Illumi averts his eyes and feels a blush spread across his face. “All of this is so new for me, you know? It feels too fast is all. And I know I shouldn’t have led you on if I wasn’t going to go through with it, but I just-”

“Hey, don’t say that.” Hisoka brings his hand back up to cup Illumi’s face. Illumi feels hot tears cloud his vision, and oh no, he can’t cry right now, not in front of Hisoka. “If you don’t want to do that, we don’t have to. Don’t act like I’m going to do anything without your permission.”

“Thank you.” Illumi feels a tear slip out from his eye and Hisoka wipes it off his face with a smile. “I had assumed you just wanted to use me, is all.”

“Please don’t think that,” Hisoka says, his face bending into a sad smile. “I know you probably hear things, but don't listen too much. I wouldn’t have chased after you if I didn’t actually care about you. If something’s wrong, I want you to be able to tell me. I’m sorry if I came off as creepy or weird - I know I can do that sometimes, but I need you to know that I’d never hurt you on purpose. Do you understand?”

Illumi nods. He gives a shuddering breath. If he explained what was happening would it make things any better? He places his hand over Hisoka’s because he doesn’t want him to pull away, he doesn’t want Hisoka to leave him alone like this.

“If you had asked me a week ago if I was gay I would’ve looked at you like you were crazy. I didn’t even think it was a possibility. I’m just confused. Everything I’ve ever been taught tells me that I shouldn’t be doing this but it just feels so right, it makes me wonder how it could possibly be wrong.”

“It’s not wrong. You deserve to be loved for all that you are. And honestly, if somebody hates you for something like your sexuality, fuck them.”

“I know.” Illumi swallows and buries his head into Hisoka’s shoulder and the whole world is falling apart and coming together all at once. He feels Hisoka’s steady heartbeat through his chest and he inhales in an attempt to calm down. Is Illumi leaving tear stains on his shoulder? He hopes that he won’t mind. “It’s so hard to rewrite everything you’ve ever known, is all.”

“I understand,” Hisoka tells him, and Illumi feels a large hand rest on the nape of his neck. He closes his eyes and everything is just colors and maybe Machi and Hisoka have been right about everything and Illumi doesn’t know if that’s more or less terrifying than hating himself. He wishes there was some specific passage in the bible for every single situation, this one included, and he wishes there were hard and fast rules and he knew what the right decision was all the time. And yet, he knows that he’s already made his decision. Consciously or not, it has been done. 

“You care about me?” Illumi backtracks, his mind screeching to a halt. Hisoka cares about him? What’s there to care about? Hisoka is like a sculpture, like a character out of a book. He’s a poem written in the sky and Illumi is just a boy who can’t figure out who he is meant to be.

“Yeah. I do.” 

“Why?”

“You’re everything I’m not, Illumi.” What’s he supposed to make of that? He knows that he’s not Hisoka, that he never can be Hisoka. People will never talk about him like that, nobody will stare at him from afar. Illumi will never hold someone as they cry because what if they really are gay? “You care so deeply. About everyone. I see the way you care about your siblings and your parents and your friends and people who you’ve never even spoken to. I see that you care about me. You go through life so unaware of your impact on others.”

“You’re wrong,” Illumi tells him. You’re the sun. People notice you, he thinks. You know what you want, you know who you are. You don’t back down from the things that are important to you. He settles for saying, “I know nothing. And you know everything.”

“You’ll learn that’s not true. I wish I could know as much as you do.” Hisoka pulls Illumi off his shoulder to gaze into his eyes before kissing him again, soft and gentle this time. “If you trust me on anything, trust me on this.”

Illumi lets himself cry again. Why? Why is he still crying? Shouldn’t he be happy? He’s vaguely aware of Hisoka moving him off his lap and leaving the room for a moment before returning with a glass of water. He’s not sure what time it is, but he figures he’s been there for at least an hour, probably more.

He takes the glass from Hisoka and drinks, trying to calm himself down. Illumi feels a hand run through his hair.

“You can spend the night, if you want.”

He nods.

"I'd like that."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Five chapters already? Um, okay. This isn't edited much, please excuse any errors. I also can't figure out how to include italics. Send help, I'm basically a grandparent with technology.
> 
> Naturally, I seek validation so if you have any thoughts about this chapter or tips on how to improve my writing I'd love to hear them. Much love as always, have a great new year! ^_^


	6. The Fault in Our Constellations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cheesy stargazing because Illumi deserves it.

A long stream of smoke rises into the chill morning air, dancing as it rises towards the stars. Hisoka leans over the balcony, breathing out a puff of smoke. He grimaces and turns back to look through the screen door. A lit candle sits on the desk, filling the room with flickering light and the scent of bergamot.

Illumi shifts in the sheets, blinking the sleep out of his eyes. It’s still dark out. For a moment he forgets where he is, wonders why his blue bedsheets have been replaced with white ones. He shivers and swings his legs over the side of the bed. Thick fog fills his mind, but he turns on his mental low-beams as he wades through it.

“You’re awake.”

“I am,” Illumi responds. He joins Hisoka in leaning over the balcony. Hisoka looks good like this. His hair is down and he isn’t wearing any makeup. Illumi can make out dark circles underneath his eyes and he frowns. “You smoke.”

"Yeah."

He had noticed the faint scent of smoke before, but he had refused to think that it came from Hisoka. He favored thinking that his parent or sibling was a smoker. 

"Why?" Illumi does his best to clear his voice of any judgment, remembering the way Machi had done the same for him. Scaring Hisoka off was the last thing he wanted to do.

“I dunno.” Hisoka shrugs and holds his cigarette to the side so he can turn and face Illumi. “My old friends told me to, so I did. I guess I never had the willpower to stop."

“I figured there would be a more interesting reason. You're such an interesting person, after all. So many secrets to uncover, so many things to learn.” Illumi hears Hisoka laugh, the bright sound rising into the night sky like it’s own brand of cigarette smoke, only a million times more addictive. 

“This isn’t The Fault in our Stars, so no. Maybe if someone else asked I’d come up with something. But I know you’d see through it.”

Hisoka really has too much faith in his ability to spot lies, but Illumi takes the compliment anyway. He stares up at the stars. Illumi has never been one for stargazing, but he considers picking it up. Staring at the vast sky like this makes him feel so small, forget the ocean. And it was always there. There wasn't any fear of it leaving or changing - the sky would always be there waiting for him.

“Do you know any constellations?” He asks Hisoka.

“Some, sure. Why do you ask?”

“Show me.” 

Hisoka takes Illumi’s hand in his to point at the sky. Illumi feels his heart speed up again. The cold air stings his throat as he inhales, but he focuses on the sky instead.

“You see that star there? The really bright one? If you connect it to those,” Hisoka points to a few more stars, dragging Illumi’s hand with him. “That’s Ursa Minor.”

Illumi lets Hisoka’s voice fade into the background as he turns to look at him. Suddenly, Illumi wishes he could sculpt like the Greek sculptors who could make stone seem so light and delicate because that’s the only way for him to truly express Hisoka’s beauty. He studies the curve of his forehead that dips down to his brown bone and back out again to his nose. He studies his cupid’s bow and his lips and the way that he smiles as he explains the constellations. With his makeup removed, Illumi can pick out small freckles that dot Hisoka's cheeks, even more beautiful than the stars that dot the sky.

Illumi turns his face away to concentrate on the sky and smiles as he does his best to pick out the stars that Hisoka points at. The blood has drained from his hand and the cold nips at his nose, but Illumi smiles and he feels that warmth in his chest that radiates out and stops him from turning to ice. 

“Aren’t you going to have to be going back soon?”

Illumi feels the glass shatter with those words and he untangles his hand from Hisoka’s. He leans against the railing and closes his eyes. He was going to have to be careful, wasn’t he? His parents couldn’t know any of it. Following Machi's advice was inherently going against that which he had been taught his whole life.

“Nobody can know.”

“What are you talking about?” Illumi hears the snide note to Hisoka’s voice, and oh, there it is again. The teasing was bound to return at some point, after all.

“Nobody can know that I came here tonight, Hisoka. And nobody can know that we’ve kissed or that I did it because I wanted to. Please,” he says and Hisoka nods. Had he been able to pick up on the urgency in Illumi’s voice? “Promise me that nobody will find out.”

“I promise," Hisoka responds without any hesitation. He catches Illumi's eyes and holds the contact for a few seconds before Illumi flits his eyes back to the ground.

“Thanks.”

Illumi sighs and pulls his phone out of his pocket to check the time. He should leave, shouldn’t he? 

“I’m sorry, I have to go.”

“It’s fine. Do what you have to.”

“Okay. I’ll see you later,” Illumi tells him. He turns and walks back into the room. His shoes are still sitting by the door and the covers are still messed up from where he had been sleeping. The chair by Hisoka’s desk is turned around from when he had kissed him the night before and there are still books spread out along the floor.

Illumi walks down the stairs and for the second time he hears the sound of his shoes echoing throughout the empty house. Precisely how much could change in what? Six hours? He shuts the back door behind him and starts to walk back to his own house. The trees that line the road seem much taller than they had before and it occurs to Illumi that he might be shrinking as the world grows around him because suddenly he doesn’t fit into the high and mighty place that he always had. He's just a person now. A person surrounded by giants that try to tell him what to do with his life, and what's a little boy supposed to do when confronted by a twelve-foot-tall giant?

He watches the sky start to change shades in preparation for dawn, and maybe he should’ve left earlier. When he was back there, standing on the balcony, with him, time seemed to move at a different rate than it had before. He wasn’t sure if it was faster or slower or both or neither - perhaps it had taken on an entirely new property that humans didn’t have the vocabulary to describe. He’s vaguely aware of his feet taking off into a run in hopes that he will get home fast enough.

Illumi breathes a sigh of relief as he sees his house peek out from above the hill. The cars are still in the driveway and there’s not a single light on in the house. Thank god his bedroom is on the bottom floor because he’s not in the mood to scale an entire house.

He’s left the screen popped out and the window open, and he crawls through it, pulling his body into itself so that he can fit through the small square in his wall. Illumi finds that it’s rather easy to put the screen back into the window. He’s thankful. Without any previous experience in window screen-removing, he had no way to know that it would go back in. 

His room is exactly the way he had left it the night before. Nobody had come in then? Illumi walks towards the mirror and raises his hand to his face. It’s going to be awfully hard to brush through his hair, he thinks. Why hadn’t Hisoka mentioned how much of a mess it had become? In any case, he has to make sure that he still looks presentable.

The brush takes a fair amount of hair out of his head; Illumi’s glad that he’s not tender-headed. Apart from that, he has a broken lip to worry about, but with the weather, it would be easy to play it off as chapped. Illumi flips the lights on and squints against the sudden brightness. Alright, he thinks. Just get through the day without passing out.

He can make that happen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a short chapter, but I didn't want to fluff it up with needless stuff. Still can't use italics, oh well. Thanks for reading as always :D


	7. This Wasn't Part of the Plan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Illumi gets a surprise.

Hisoka is hard to ignore.

The moment Illumi decided to kiss him, it was like he whispered a curse that could never be broken. He sees Hisoka when he looks at the stars, the trees, the sky, and he's getting annoyed with how Hisoka knows how to be everywhere all at once. 

In any case, Illumi likes to think he's doing a good job of deterring any suspicion. There hadn't even been a seed planted in anyone's head, the faint idea that maybe in some parallel universe, he would kiss a boy on two separate occasions. Nobody would think or ever know that he had wanted to be kissed by that boy, that he had asked him if he would do it.

Feeling another pair of lips on his would not change the way that he lived his life. He would follow the rhythm of his life from years past - wake up, go to school, go to church, go out with Shizuku. He only added one step - meeting up with Hisoka to talk and make out and play games and live in a way he's never lived before. Illumi revels in the freedom of it all - the way that he’s allowed to show up to see him without any plan of what they’ll do together. The stress of sneaking around is well worth getting to spend time with him. 

Illumi learns quite a few things about him over the next month. He learns that his mom died a long time ago and his dad is basically always on call at the hospital. That's why Hisoka's house is always empty and it's why he can do whatever he wants. He learns that Hisoka doesn’t have any siblings, but he had a dog when he was younger whom he misses more than words could express. Hisoka has always had a soft spot for animals. He learns that Hisoka’s favorite food is ramen. His favorite color is red, like the color of blood. Hisoka pretends that he can eat spicy food, but he gets the hiccups from it all the time. He wears perfume from Bath and Body Works because he likes smelling like fresh-baked cookies. 

Illumi learns who Hisoka is. Past the surface, past the layers that he shows to the outside world, Illumi learns. He learns about Hisoka's fears, his hopes, the things he misses from his childhood. He learns that Hisoka is so much more than a character from a fantasy book.

Illumi prays that he and Hisoka could just be like that for the rest of the year - learning and growing and being themselves, but he’s starting to think that God doesn't like him much. 

Seeing Chrollo walk into his classroom almost three years after the last time they had spoken is a slap to the face. Illumi finds there is nothing he can do but watch as the teacher introduces him to the class. Does everyone else remember him too? He turns over his shoulder to see Chrollo sitting in the empty seat next to him.

His smile is just the same - somewhere between attractive and cocky. Illumi decides the latter is a better descriptor. Pure arrogance radiates off Chrollo. Was it new, or had Illumi been too dumb to realize it as a child?

If Chrollo had moved back a year ago he would’ve been ecstatic to have his friend back, would've overlooked the cockiness. There was something different about having him back now - seeing him filled Illumi with a sense of sadness and nostalgia that he hadn’t been expecting to be hit with at 7:30 on a Monday.

It’s been a while, huh?” Illumi finds himself swinging his legs over the side of his chair to face his used to be best friend. He sees a flash of confusion cross over Chrollo’s eyes and his eyes widen.

“It’s… Illumi, right?” Illumi nods in response. “I hardly recognized you. You’ve changed a lot since the last time we met.”

“Have I?”

Chrollo nods and faces the front of the room. There’s something in Illumi that wishes that Chrollo could be a closed door that remained closed. Discovering that he might have had a crush on his best friend throughout all of middle school hadn’t been a welcome revelation. Yet, when he looked at Chrollo he didn’t feel his face flush or his heart race the way it had when he was younger. All he felt was a soft ache that managed to be so beautiful he wasn’t sure what he should do with it. Maybe he’d get into poetry writing?

He would be able to write cheesy poetry about Hisoka. He'd be able to tell him about how he loves when Hisoka wipes off his makeup so he can count the freckles on his cheeks like they count the stars. He'd tell him how much he had changed for having met him. 

Hisoka would know what to do. At some point in their conversations, he had brought up Chrollo. He had been perfectly content to let him live on in memory, a step to his self-discovery, but nothing more. Illumi had asked Hisoka how he realized that he wasn’t straight? Was it like that? With one person who changed everything? No, Hisoka had told him. He just always kind of knew. Illumi wished he could relate. 

He’s not sure what to think when Chrollo catches him after class. If Illumi had changed, Chrollo had changed even more - his once blond hair now black, not to mention how much taller he had gotten. Illumi still recognizes him in an instant. 

“Is there a reason we never kept in contact?” Chrollo doesn’t remember. It is, of course, no object to Illumi, none at all because why in the world would he care? 

“I wasn’t allowed to have a phone. So, we just kind of gave up after emailing for a little while.” Or rather, Chrollo gave up. After three emails that had been given no response, Illumi decided to stop trying. Maybe some friendships just weren’t meant to happen. 

“I see. I do remember being friends with you when we were younger. Maybe we’ll get to know each other again, I don’t know.“ Illumi hopes they don’t. “In any case, I’ll see you around. We’ll be running into each other a lot between school and church.”

Of course, Chrollo has to go to his church. Why wouldn’t he? His family had been devout when they left, having attended Illumi’s church for as long as he could remember, so there was no reason for him to think that they might not come back. Yet, it hadn’t even crossed his mind that they could.

Illumi shakes his head and leaves to enter the hallway. He’s never been a fan of small, crowded areas, and he can say that this is no exception to that rule. He pushes through the crowd of people, and out of the corner of his eye he sees a flash of red hair, but it turns the corner as fast as he can register it. Why not go after him? Just talk to him at school once, tell him that Chrollo has come back, and of course, now they have to go to church together and he just wishes that Chrollo could’ve remained a memory. Illumi knows the idea is crazy - speaking to Hisoka with other people around was a hurdle he had yet to jump over. How did Hisoka put up with it? How was he not getting tired of tiptoeing around like this? 

The hallway is starting to feel even more crowded than it did when Illumi left the classroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this was an iffy and short chapter, but the next one is long to make up for it! Thanks for reading ofc, updates are kinda slow because of school and all, I'm doing my best though :P


	8. I Can't Come Up With a Decent Chapter Name

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this is a filler chapter in the sense of the lack of hisoillu (sorry), but it did have to happen for the plot, so sit with me here. Thanks to everyone who has read this! I opened my phone the other day and saw I had gotten six comments and about had an aneurism, so thank you so much! Knowing you guys like what I'm doing really makes my day.
> 
> I also have this idea for a new fic (maybe Tododeku but I'm not sure, give ship suggestions if you want), and I can't wait to start writing it. Idk, maybe I'll keep y'all updated in these notes. ;)

The wooden pew creaks. Illumi turns over his shoulder to find Chrollo sitting next to him. Aside from their run-in on Chrollo's first day, they had yet to have a real conversation, despite it having been almost a full week since Chrollo moved back into town. Not that Illumi was complaining. If anything, he was glad to be able to pretend that Chrollo was still living on the other side of the country.

Everything would run smoother without another person to worry about. As always, he took out Shizuku on Tuesday. They went to a museum and a restaurant and Illumi made sure to hold her hand and act like the perfect boyfriend. He wouldn't want to raise any suspicion.

On Wednesday, he went to church, and then he went to cheat on Shizuku. He knew that’s what he was doing, what he had been doing, and he didn’t care anymore. That feeling of guilt? It was gone. After all, it wouldn’t hurt her as long as she never knew what he was doing behind her back. Illumi had told Hisoka all about the issue with Chrollo and how for some reason he didn’t want him back in town. Hisoka had told him that there might be some residual feelings or bitterness for him to figure out. He wouldn’t be upset at Illumi if there were.

Illumi had kissed him and thanked him for listening because he was starting to feel like he was an ant trying to talk to giants. Hisoka had held his hand and told him that Illumi was the giant and everyone was scared of how they admired him. Illumi told him he was being cheesy again. He always was.

On Thursday, he babysat his siblings while his parents were away for a conference. He wasn’t the best at taking care of babies, needless to say. At least there was Wikihow for when he had to change Alluka’s diaper. No matter how many times he tried, it was always a struggle for him. For as little as he talks with his siblings, he has to admit that he does love them. His siblings are even more reason that his parents can't ever find out about who he is - he wants to be there to see them grow up. If he were to have to leave soon, Alluka probably wouldn't even remember him.

The only thing Illumi has to do on Sunday is go to church. It is not “go to church and talk to Chrollo” but he’s quickly realizing that it might have to become that because he’s not looking to piss off anyone. He’s walking on thin ice as is.

“Hey, Illu.”

“Chrollo.” Illumi nods, digging his fingernails into his thighs through his jeans. “And, it’s Illumi now, if you don’t mind.”

“Right. Illumi.” Chrollo glances in the other direction. “Has anything new happened? Since you know… I moved away?”

“Not really…” Illumi slouches in his chair. “I did basketball last year, but I don’t do it anymore. I still hang out with the old group sometimes, but we’ve kind of grown distant. And I’m still dating Shizuku. It’s been a little over two years now.”

Illumi is hardly dating Shizuku. He says it anyway. As far as everyone else is concerned, including her, it’s a true statement.

“That’s good to hear. I had a girlfriend before I moved, but we didn’t want to deal with doing long distance. I got into football during freshman year, maybe I’ll go out for the team next year. I haven’t decided yet.”

Illumi can confidently say that the awkward air around them has yet to dissipate. For once, he actually is relieved to see the service start. He’s lucky that he knows all the songs by heart because his mind is at other places during the service. This has been happening a lot, hasn’t it? He’s the same person, he reminds himself. Just with a little more reason to be bitter toward his religion.

The light is streaming in through the stained glass window and across the carpet, leaving bits of colored light scattered behind. Illumi faintly registers his father giving a sermon, but he's not paying too much attention.

He does catch enough of the sermon to wonder if it’s supposed to be targeting him. It crosses his mind for the umpteenth time that if he wanted to, he could date Shizuku like a normal boy and ignore that stupid part of himself. In fact, it would be easiest to do so. Hisoka would be disappointed if Illumi broke things off, but he can’t see him getting mad. They would just go about their regular lives as if nothing had happened between them - like they hadn’t once meant so much to each other.

This is when Illumi realizes that he has a boyfriend. Alright, officially he doesn’t, but for all other purposes, Hisoka is his boyfriend which is another scary step in not running away from who he is, up there with the first time he kissed him. Maybe it’s ironic for him to realize that he is dating the most magical boy he’s ever seen while his dad yells about owning up to your sins and seeking salvation. Maybe it’s fate for the things he wants to be in direct conflict with the things his religion, his family, tells him. He’s not sure who to listen to anymore.

Maybe it would be better for him to not listen to anybody at all. It’s not like being with Hisoka affects his life outside of their meet-ups, so why should he stop being Christian or having his family’s values outside of them? They’re just a little guilty pleasure. That’s all.

Illumi looks over to Chrollo who’s taking notes on the sermon. Yes, he’s that kid. Not to say there’s anything wrong with it, he thinks, but it does make sense for him to take everything he hears at church to heart. Hell, maybe Illumi has become that kid in some parallel universe. He’s just not that kid here, not anymore.

The pews are starting to get uncomfortable, and Illumi has to stop himself from wiggling around in them the same way he did when he was a young child struggling to get through a service without crying and pissing off his mom. He was more than relieved when he was old enough to start sitting apart from them. Come to think of it, most of his milestones had happened in the church. It was so heavily ingrained in him that breaking even one or two rules was like shattering the stained glass that he had always been. What would the church look like if you bashed out the windows? Was it possible to create something even more beautiful out of the shards of glass?

He’s not sure for how long the service has been over or for how long he’s been zoning out when Chrollo taps his shoulder and laughs. Illumi shakes his head and forces out a laugh in response, but he knows that it comes out awkward more than anything else. He tucks a stray hair behind his ear and stands up.

“Lost in thought?”

“Yeah,” Illumi says. He can pass it off as something other than thinking about his relationship with religion and his boyfriend, right? “I do that after service sometimes. I find it’s the best way to take everything in.”

“That makes a lot of sense. I’ve never done that before, but maybe I’ll try.” Chrollo puts his notebook and bible back into a small backpack that he’s brought with him. He throws it over his shoulder and heads off into the residual crowd of people that are milling about the building. Illumi has been here long enough to guess what the conversations are. Small talk, more than anything, with the occasional bit of gossip or exchanged recipe thrown in for good measure.

Illumi walks into his Dad’s office where he knows his father will still be working. Had there been any signs of him and Hisoka meeting in Silva’s office? If there had been, he didn’t mention it to Illumi. He had been avoiding the small room for a while, but there wasn’t much of a reason to anymore. Seeing the office didn’t make him feel like he was suffocating anymore. It would be strange for him to freak out over places he’s kissed Hisoka, right? He wasn’t about to have a panic attack every time he saw a picnic table or a swingset.

He clears his throat to let Silva know he’s there before sitting down in an extra chair. He hadn’t been able to find any of his other family members. He used to spend the time after service sitting around the office and waiting for his father to finish up work, so it shouldn’t be an issue that he had come there.

“Illumi?” Silva looks up from his desk and makes eye contact with his eldest son from across the room. He nods. “You hadn’t told us that Chrollo and his family had moved back into town. Have you seen him around?”

“Oh, yeah. We have history class together. I hadn’t gotten around to mentioning it yet.”

“I see,” Silva says and shuts the notebook sitting on his desk. “I hope you two can be friends again. I like his parents very much.”

“Of course. I hope that as well, Father.”

“You know, I think I’ll invite them over for dinner later this week. What do you think?”

“Alright,” Illumi responds. He watches his father pack his things into a brown leather back that he places over his shoulder. “That sounds okay to me. What day?”

“Does Tuesday or Thursday work better for you? If you’re meeting up with Shizuku one of those days we can work around it.”

“Either is okay. We haven’t set a day to meet up outside of school yet.” Illumi resists the urge to roll his eyes. He’d still have to meet up with Shizuku at least one day, right? Plus Chrollo’s family coming over and church on Wednesday and Sunday and the youth group outing on Friday… which left only Saturday for him to meet up with Hisoka. He wasn’t looking to get into the habit of not leaving himself any extra space should something go wrong, but he had a feeling it would be a rough week and he wasn’t about to skip seeing Hisoka.

Silva decides to have them meet up on Tuesday. Naturally, Illumi finds himself cleaning the house because apparently, they have to leave a “good impression”, despite having known the family for years in the past. Illumi’s room is generally clean all considered, but he groans as his mom finds ways to tell him to make it cleaner. He’s sure that nobody is going to be checking the top of his bathroom mirror for dust, but he dusts it off anyway. He’s not trying to start a fight.

He’s not sure what he’s supposed to be doing with Chrollo in the two hours before dinner is ready. He nearly had flashbacks to his childhood when his parents shooed them into Illumi’s room and told them to “have fun”. There’s an awkward tension in the air as Chrollo sits on the floor across from him, and he’s not particularly surprised when they have next to nothing to talk about.

“So,” Chrollo fills the silence and sets his phone down on the floor. “Silva said you’re coming on the trip on Friday. Are you excited?”

“Oh, I don’t know. I’ve been on so many at this point, they all blend together somewhere along the line.”

“It’s been a moment for me. My church back in Washington didn’t do them that often. It’s definitely going to be weird settling back in here.”

“Well, yeah. I imagine it’s pretty different? I never even heard if it was tough getting settled in when you moved there what? Two years ago? Three?” Because you never bothered to tell me, he thinks, but he figures that Chrollo can sense that from his tone of voice.

“It’s definitely different. My Southern accent even left while I was living up there.” He had an accent? Had Illumi forgotten the little things over time? “I’m not really sure how to describe it. At least I have a group of friends to come back to here.”

Did anyone else want to be friends with Chrollo again? Illumi would rather remain having only two friends than go back to being friends with Chrollo.

“You got into football, right?” This is starting to feel an awful lot like the kind of conversation he has with his extended family during Thanksgiving. How’s school? Alright. How are sports? Alright. How’s the church? Alright. Anything fun coming up? Not really. “Any reason why?”

“I just figured it would be a good way to meet some other guys,” Chrollo tells him. “It was. But I ended up actually liking the sport, so I stuck around. You don’t play anything, do you?”

“I guess not. I never really found anything that stuck with me. Maybe I’ll try something else next year? I can say that I don’t like football, basketball, baseball, soccer, or swimming, so those are out of the question. I guess I haven’t tried tennis yet?”

“Tennis?” Chrollo laughs. Illumi looks at the ground. “Maybe sports aren’t your thing? Anyway, isn’t tennis a girl’s sport?”

“I’m pretty sure there’s no such thing as girl’s sports or boy’s sports,” Illumi wonders if he’s started to edge out onto the ice by even questioning Chrollo. “Except for maybe sumo. I’m not sure, and it doesn’t matter anyway because our school doesn’t offer sumo.”

“It doesn’t? What a shame,” Chrollo says, “I was actually excited to join the sumo team. As I’m sure many other people were.”

“Shut up.” Illumi rolls his eyes. “It was just a comment.”

“As was me saying that I think of tennis as a sport for girls. Say, doesn’t Shizuku play tennis?”

“Shizuku… sure, she does.” Without the prompt, Illumi’s not sure if he would’ve remembered that fact. It had been a while since she had stopped talking about it, but he hadn’t even noticed when she had. “How did you know?”

“I caught up with her over the week. We’re partners in science class. I’m going to assume you don’t mind?”

“Not at all,” Illumi responds. Why would he mind? “What are you guys working on?”

“We’re lab partners. I just wanted to let you know I’m not going to be messing with your girl, that’s all.”

Illumi wishes he would mess with Shizuku. In his ideal world, she would fall for Chrollo and break up with him. With his luck, Chrollo would probably end up convincing her to marry him.

“Ah, I wouldn’t have assumed you were. You don’t strike me as the kind of person to do that.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t. You guys make a cute couple anyway,” Chrollo tells him. Illumi nods half-heartedly and glances out the window to see the sun about ready to set. He sighs and flops down on his back. Has Chrollo always been this talkative? Illumi guesses so. He hadn’t realized it so much in his childhood. If anything, he was the same way at the time. His parents had been concerned when he got suddenly much quieter, but they hadn’t pushed him for answers. Illumi’s not sure what he would’ve said if they had. He doesn’t enjoy talking any more than he did at the time, but he finds that he’s far better at coming up with arbitrary things to talk about.

This holds true as he sits at the table and pushes at some under-seasoned crockpot meal with his fork. He’s talking about school and church and the weather, but he’s not sure that he would be able to tell you what the conversation consisted of in even ten minutes. He’s seated at the large wooden dining table across from Chrollo’s mom who’s playing with her hair and the clips she had placed in it. Her husband sits nearby in khaki pants and a t-shirt, he’s laughing at some sort of obscene joke that Illumi knows he’d be practically beat if he had told. Of course, it’s his father telling the jokes; this makes it perfectly acceptable.

Soon enough, his parents are gossiping about Machi and Illumi is nodding when he feels he is supposed to and hoping that his younger siblings aren’t paying too much attention to the conversation at hand. Chrollo is nodding along more attentively than Illumi - he even dares to throw in his own opinion which Illumi comes to learn is rather similar to that of his parents. He doesn’t expect it to be anything different anyway, but he discovers that some part of him had been hoping that it would be.

Illumi blinks himself out of his thoughts when Chrollo’s mother turns to face him, an open invitation to join the conversation at a deeper level than he had been participating.

“Say,” she starts and Illumi resists the urge to bury his face into his hands and sink into the chair. “You’ve been awfully quiet, Illumi. Do you have any thoughts?”

“Well,” Illumi clears his throat and asks himself what he would’ve said a year ago. “It’s been difficult to see her stray like this. She’s important to me, I wish there was something we could do.”

Is he a good actor? The others don’t seem to have any doubts when it comes to his sob story, so he breathes a sigh of relief. It was the perfect bluff. As a matter of fact, Illumi figures it would be good to solidify what his “position” on all of this was. It would be easier to make sure he kept the same story when asked if he knew.

“I fully agree, Illumi.” Chrollo’s mom smiles at him and Illumi nods in return. She reaches up to play with the cross earring that’s dangling from her ear and takes a sip of the water that’s sitting on the table. “I’d say to remain hopeful. Plenty of people decide to repent and return to their church as they age. She’s only 18, she has several years to figure out the right path.”

“I hope you’re right,” Silva adds in. “None of us have spoken to her recently, but I should probably ask her parents if they’ve given it another go anytime recent.”

Illumi lets out a sigh of relief as he glances over at Killua and finds that he is far more entertained by the meal in front of him than the conversation in the room. He assumes that Killua is doing the same thing that he had always done at that age - attempt to blend into the background out of the lack of desire to be there. Honestly, what kid would rather spend time gossiping about matters in the church than spend time playing video games in their room?

“On another note, didn’t you guys go to Paris recently? How was it?” Silva changes the subject and Illumi smiles because maybe they’ve actually found something that he’s interested in hearing them talk about. His parents had never made enough money to take them on trips like that, or they just didn’t like learning about things that they weren’t familiar with. Maybe it was a little bit of both - Illumi isn’t sure.

He is sure that he leaves the room as soon as he can once dinner is finished. He falls flat back onto his bed, the comforter bunching up underneath him. His pillows are stacked on the floor from before dinner when he had moved them to sit on. His room is lined with shelves of books and photos. He stares at his door, expecting the handle to turn and reveal a Chrollo who had chased after him, but after a few moments of waiting, he decides that it’s not going to turn.

He calls it safe to text Hisoka and opens his phone, his hand holding the yellowed plastic case. He finds that he has no contact photo for Hisoka - upon further consideration, he has no photos of him at all. Illumi figures that he’ll ask to take a photo of them when they meet up on Saturday. It feels silly, but he thinks he would like to have a picture of Hisoka laughing staring back up at him when he goes to send the older boy a text.


	9. Stargazing 2.0 Because I'm Fundamentally Unoriginal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They go on a date!

The sun has already set when Illumi sneaks out to see Hisoka on Saturday evening. He hadn’t intended to get caught up playing board games with his family, but he ended up shooting Hisoka a text to explain that they would have to wait until later to meet up. He didn’t want to upset his parents, especially not with his siblings around. Hisoka had told him it wasn’t a big deal at all. He didn’t have plans at all that day; Illumi just needed to call when he was free.

Illumi isn’t sure when he started running. His feet had started moving faster and faster until they hit the ground with a pitter-patter sound. He rounded the corner to see Hisoka sitting on a swing and scrolling through his phone. They had made a habit of meeting at the playground on nights like this - Illumi liked the vie it gave. Not to mention how few people would be at a playground with their kids after the sun went down. Illumi thinks it's a wise meeting location as he glances around to find nobody there - not even a stray kid wandering around. He had discovered that more kids got left behind than he might have anticipated. His parents, being the overprotective pair that they were, had hardly let him out of their sights when he was younger.

Hisoka looks up as he hears Illumi call his name. Illumi can see a smile spread across his face as he stands up and walks over. He catches Illumi’s hand in his own.

“Are you going to tell me where we’re going?” Illumi asks as he intertwines his fingers with Hisoka’s.

“Not until we get there.” Hisoka pulls Illumi towards a truck sitting by the side of the road. He pulls out a pair of keys and unlocks it, the lights illuminating in the darkness. That’s strange - Illumi could’ve sworn he had a different kind of car. Hisoka opens the passenger side door. “As long as you trust me, that is.”

“I do,” Illumi responds and steps into the truck. “Since when have you had this?”

“It’s not mine. It’s my Dad’s, actually. I just thought it would be useful for us.”

“Useful?” Illumi laughs. “Should I be concerned?”

“Not at all. I think you’ll have fun.”

Illumi decides to go with the flow and buckles up his seatbelt. He squints at the radio which lights up blue in the dark. Hisoka fiddles with it and turns off some station he happened to be playing the last time he was driving.

Hisoka drives off. The roads are slightly wet and the streetlamps reflect off the dampness. Illumi looks out the window and feels a hand reach over to rest against his leg. He blushes and sits up a little straighter. Long nails run up and down his leg and Illumi smiles in response.

“Can I ask you a question?” He asks and turns to face Hisoka.

“Anything,” Hisoka tells him and spares a glance his way. He moves his hand to meet Illumi’s and holds it over the console.

“Aren’t we basically dating? We’ve never talked about it or anything, but isn’t that what this is?”

“Yeah.” Hisoka doesn’t hesitate in giving his answer. His voice comes out clear and without doubt and Illumi is almost taken aback because he hadn’t expected Hisoka to have put any thought to it before then. “I had avoided the word so that I wouldn’t freak you out. For what it’s worth, I do see you as my boyfriend.”

“Your boyfriend. I…“ Illumi glances out the window. He’s not sure how far they’ve traveled yet, but he’s keenly aware that they're out of the city. The lights that reflected against the pavement have since disappeared and there are trees that dot the side of the road. "I like that. Kind of makes me wish that I could tell people.”

“I know,” Hisoka says, “Me too.”

“You don’t get annoyed with me having to hide like this? You could date someone else who you could actually be with publicly, and you could hold their hand and kiss them when other people are around. Wouldn’t that be better for you?”

“It’s worth it. I’d rather date you than anyone else. I get it, that's what we have to do.”

“I’m still sorry.”

“Don’t be.”

Illumi watches him pull into an open field. He frowns - what are they doing out here? He shakes his head and hops out of the truck when Hisoka unlocks it. His feet hit the ground with a soft thud and he turns to see Hisoka in the back seat of the truck digging through a pile of objects. A moment later, he comes out with a couple of bags in his arms and starts to unpack them, throwing a pile of blankets and pillows into the bed of the truck. He sets the bag and its remaining contents in the bed and braces his weight on it, jumping up and sitting back against the stack of pillows.

“Come on,” Hisoka shouts at Illumi.

Illumi rolls his eyes, but follows the instructions and jumps into the bed. He shoves Hisoka lightly and earns a laugh in response. He stares at Hisoka for a moment. Hisoka is sitting there, laughing and smiling because of Illumi. Because Illumi has the power to make Hisoka laugh like that. When he sees Hisoka happy it’s probably because of him. He feels himself smile at the thought.

“Will you tell me what it is we’re doing now?”

“Sure,” Hisoka responds and pulls out a telescope from the larger of the bags that sit near them. He sets it down as Illumi watches with a certain sparkle in his eyes. “I just wanted to look at the stars. And talk. I bought some of your favorite snacks.”

“You said I'd love it.” Illumi smiles as he looks around the field. How long had Hisoka been planning it for? “I do. I love it, Hisoka."

Hisoka hums in response.

"When did you get a telescope?”

“About a month ago. I saw it at a garage sale and thought it might be fun to give it a try.” Hisoka leans against Illumi’s arm and stares up at the sky. He exhales for a moment before continuing, “but it’s up to you.”

“Look at us,” Illumi says and leans his own head against Hisoka’s, “We’re on a date, aren’t we? A real date. And I’m really, really happy to be here.”

So this is a real date. Illumi feels safe as he leans against Hisoka, the warmth radiating from the two of them stopping the chill from seeping into his bones. Despite being surrounded by an area he’s never seen before, Illumi finds that he feels oddly safe. He wants to be there - he wants to be with the older boy. He wants to touch him and kiss him and tell him all the things in his life - good and bad and everything that is neither good nor bad.

When’s the last time he felt like this with Shizuku? Never, he decides. He had never felt this way with Shizuku. Illumi can’t pinpoint the feeling, but he can say that he hasn’t ever felt it from being with her. Trying to love someone like that was starting to get annoying.

“Where did that come from?” Hisoka chuckles, reaching for the bag of snacks.

“I think I need to break up with Shizuku.”

“What are you going to tell her?”

“I’m not sure yet. Can I just stop seeing her? Let it die out on its own?”

“It’s worth a try. In all honesty, I think we would both feel less guilty if you weren’t dating her. Technically, that is.”

“Both of us?” Illumi is taken aback. Since when has Hisoka felt guilty about anything? “Does that mean you feel guilty too? You hardly even know her.”

“Still, I see the way it eats you up. It’s not my place to get involved, but I do wonder if you’d be happier without her sometimes.”

“She has been an awfully good cover.”

“Realistically, even if you break up with her, nobody has any reason to suspect you aren’t straight. It is your decision, though.”

Illumi hums in acknowledgment. He closes his eyes and tries to not think about any of it. After all, isn’t that what these dates were for? Hisoka snakes his arm around Illumi’s back and Illumi gives a faint smile in response.

“Do you ever think about whether your life would be different if we hadn’t ever met?” Illumi asks. He certainly has - things would be easier. But he’s sure that he’d still be silently miserable, even if his misery was a secret to himself as well. If Hisoka didn’t make him reconsider the things he thought he knew, someone else would have, somewhere along the line.

“Sure. But I think we would have met eventually. I’m not one to believe in fate or destiny but…”

“Hey, don’t say stuff like that,” Illumi responds and shoves Hisoka playfully. Hisoka catches his hand to hold it and laughs. “God, I never expected you to be so cheesy.”

“Me? Cheesy? Where would you get that idea from?”

Illumi rolls his eyes and moves around in the bed of the truck to be better situated underneath one of the blankets. Seriously, though - he had grown to care so much for someone he hadn’t even known a year ago. It passes his mind briefly that perhaps Hisoka hadn’t known himself before either, but he shakes off the thought.

“I mean it though. Why aren’t you like this around everyone else?”

“Do you want the serious answer or the sarcastic answer?”

“The serious one, Hisoka.”

“I’m scared,” Hisoka tells him. Illumi frowns. Hisoka is scared? He hadn’t thought he was scared of anything, except for maybe centipedes (they have too many legs). But scared of letting people get to know him? In retrospect, he can start to see that it would make a fair amount of sense for that to be the truth. “I don’t want to have to open up. It’s easier this way.”

“I think you’re just telling yourself that. I don’t think it’s really easier for you.”

Hisoka shrugs and looks down at his hands. Illumi should say something, shouldn’t he? When he was having a difficult time Hisoka had been there for him. He had known what the right things to say were. He should be able to do the same. He should be able to wave a magic wand and make things miraculously better. But he can’t.

Illumi decides to forgo the words and instead presses a chaste kiss to Hisoka’s cheek. He hears him sigh. Maybe it’s best for him to not press too much. They would be okay like this - them together in the back of a truck, the stars spread above them by some being. If Illumi never got to meet that higher power, he could be okay with it. It was a fair trade - everything was worth just one lifetime’s worth of happiness with Hisoka.

“Show me the constellations, yeah? The ones you didn’t show me last time.”

“Okay.”

Hisoka cranes his neck upwards to look at the vast sky and he begins to explain the pinpricks of light to Illumi. And Illumi actually listens this time. He knows that he could be spending the entire time staring at Hisoka, but he knows that he’ll have a near-infinite number of chances to do so in the future. All he wants to do right now is learn about the constellations and which one is Hisoka’s zodiac sign and which one is his. He nods and fakes understanding when Hisoka talks about astrology, because who was he supposed to learn astrology from? Certainly not his parents.

Hisoka stops his explanation for a moment to look at Illumi. Illumi stares back, taking a moment to take in every inch of Hisoka - of his boyfriend, of what is his. He’s in a trance. Illumi jolts out of it when he feels a hand tuck underneath his chin. Illumi notices that Hisoka has sat up on his knees - It’s odd to look up at him like this. In any normal scenario, they would be eye to eye. He can’t decide if he likes it or not, he only knows that it’s different.

“Hey,” Hisoka says. Illumi can sense the warmth in the tone of his voice and he smiles in response.

“Hey.”

“You’re amazing,” And suddenly Illumi is laughing on the bed of the truck. Hisoka is pouting as he laughs at him, but something in Illumi knows that it’s just an act. It’s an act that he can deal with, one he can even enjoy. “Don’t laugh at me.”

“What can I say? It’s strange to see you call me amazing.” Illumi grabs a red fuzzy blanket and throws it over their laps in an attempt to fend off the cold. “Never thought you would.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m not, mainly. I’m not amazing.”

“Well, that’s just not true. And you know it.” Hisoka lifts Illumi’s face again to force them to meet eye contact. He laughs as Illumi blushes and recoils. His mind is like a bullet train, moving faster than he can even see and he can’t decide whether he wants it all to stop or just keep going forever and ever, even after he reaches his station and until the train runs off the side of the Earth. It echoes in his ears that Hisoka thinks that he’s amazing - that he’s amazing. That Illumi Zoldyck is amazing, and it doesn’t sound right, not even when it’s just in his brain and hasn’t even been put out into the world yet. “You know, Illu. I’m always willing to show you just how amazing I think you are.”

“I-” Illumi should be embarrassed. He’s not the type to like the feeling of being the main character in a cheesy rom-com, but he can’t stop himself from scooting closer. He nearly says yes. Yes. Show me what I mean to you. Show me any way you want to show me because as far as I’m concerned I am an extension of you. Everything that is you is already me. But he doesn’t. Instead, he says, “I really like you. Like a lot.”

“Well, that’s good to know, because I really like you too. Like a lot.”

Illumi lets out a soft chuckle but goes silent as Hisoka’s hand comes up to linger along his cheekbone. He lets his eyes dart down to look at his lips and oh my god are they about to kiss right now? He’s fairly sure that giddy feeling should’ve faded by now, but it hasn’t. What is it? Fear? Excitement? Nervousness? Maybe it’s something in between the three, something that there is no word for in the English dictionary. If being like this with Hisoka had taught him anything, it was that the English language was insufficient when it comes to accurately describing matters of the heart.

He places his hand over Hisoka’s on his face and holds it there for a moment before removing their hands. He places his palms on Hisoka’s shoulders and pushes him down so that he’s lying down on his back with Illumi propped up above him. Illumi can see his own reflection in Hisoka’s pupils and he knows when he blushes a shade of red that he’s not sure should be fully capable for a human to turn.

And then Hisoka’s hand is on the back of his neck drawing him closer and closer and their lips flush together and Illumi’s entire body feels like it’s just short-circuited. He wonders if that tingly feeling has faded for Hisoka yet. Is it supposed to fade after this long? He thinks that maybe there’s something wrong with him and the way he so readily places his body over Hisoka’s and lets himself curve into his shape.

Hands are everywhere and Illumi is being stung by a thousand bees but instead of pain, all that he feels is pleasure and happiness and deep down a sense of security that manifests itself with an exhale into the kiss. It’s open-mouthed and he can feel Hisoka’s tongue in his mouth and he thinks that logically he should find it gross and want to pull away, but he doesn’t mind not knowing which hands belong to whom anymore. He is fine with becoming a part of Hisoka; he’s okay with being an extension of him.

He’s fine with it when Hisoka turns them over so that he’s hovering over Illumi, trapping his head in between two arms. Okay, he’s a little more than fine with it. He pushes himself up onto his elbows so that he can run a hand through that red hair and he laughs. It’s absurd that he’s laughing at a time like this, but it feels so natural. He just wants to laugh and never stop when he sees Hisoka, and he’s not sure who or what he’s laughing at most of the time, but he finds that it doesn’t really matter.

“What’s so funny?”

“I don’t even know,” Illumi says, but he keeps on laughing until Hisoka has joined in. “I’m just happy.”

“Me too,” Hisoka hums and keeps laughing until he’s weak and laying down on top of Illumi. This is precisely when Illumi realizes there is something undeniably hard poking against his stomach, and had he not even noticed how worked up they had gotten? He had been so busy staring at Hisoka and reveling in the things that he made him feel that he had paid no attention to what either of their bodies had been doing past what felt merely instinctual.

“Oh, you’re um…” Illumi feels his face go red as he brings it up, and he wonders if it would be better to pretend he hadn’t noticed. “You’re hard, aren’t you?”

“Hey, don’t act like you’re any better.”

“You weren’t wanting to…” Illumi raises his voice as he trails off and raises his eyebrows as he looks at Hisoka. It was awfully cold.

“Nah, I’m not looking to do it in the back of a truck. If I’m not, I’d certainly imagine you aren’t either.”

“I’m not sure if I should be offended by that comment or not.”

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but you don’t look like you’ve slept with many people, let alone another guy. I’m not sure you’d appreciate it if your first experience was in the back of a truck when it’s forty degrees out.”

“Stop,” Illumi whines, “God, you’re so embarrassing. You do, however, have a point.”

“See. In any case, we’ll just call a rain check, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Illumi finds himself saying, “I guess we will.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so bad at writing smut, like literally the worst. It's so bad. With that being said, I'll give it another go if y'all want me to? Lemme know?
> 
> Also, I'm almost to the end of my pre-written stuff, and with school and all updates are gonna get more sporadic but I'm not giving up on this fic or anything lol
> 
> Thanks to my readers! <3


	10. All of My Change I've Spent on You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Breaking up and telephone calls

Illumi can do this. He can do this. Hell, it doesn’t matter whether or not he can, because Illumi Zoldyck is going to do this.

He feels like he’s about to puke up his breakfast as he sits across from Shizuku on one of the picnic tables in the park. The red paint is chipping off the wood and the nails have long since rusted. The park as a whole shows signs of age, but everything in his small town is run down or forgotten anyway, so Illumi isn't surprised. The quality of the picnic tables would not affect how the rest of his afternoon was going to go. 

He halfway listens to Shizuku talk about her friends as he pokes at the ham in the sandwich he had packed. Illumi doesn’t even know where to start. He can’t interrupt her, but he doesn’t want her to get carried away - he needs to tell her. If only he could find the time, Illumi thinks. He lays his cheek against his palm and nods periodically and Shizuku continues on.

“Shizuku,” Illumi breathes out. He tries his best to find the courage buried somewhere within him, but he comes up empty. What if she figured it all out? Did he even have a good enough excuse? Illumi guesses it doesn’t matter. If he’s going to have to do it eventually, it’s better for him to get it out of the way now.

“Yes?” Shizuku says. She doesn’t know. Illumi can tell - the way she asks with such curiosity. She really has no idea what he is about to tell her, does she? “Is everything okay?”

Illumi squints against the sun as it peeks through the rows of trees. They’re bending in the wind and Illumi thinks if he starts to feel any fainter he might get blown over too and then picked up and carried around the park like a haphazardly discarded grocery bag. Is everything okay? Illumi doesn’t know what the answer to that question is. No, he wants to say, but it will be in ten years when I can live the way I want to. But for the next decade or so every time you ask me the answer is going to be no. Naturally, this is not what he says.

“I don’t know…” He flicks his eyes down to the nails and the warped planks. He doesn’t want to look into Shizuku’s eyes when he tells her. He might not have feelings for her, but Illumi doesn’t want to see her break. He’s not sure what he would tell her if he does see. “I’ve been thinking about something.”

“Okay,” Shizuku prompts, an ounce of doubt leaking into her voice.

“I think we should take a break.”

“A break? Are you breaking up with me?” Shizuku reaches a hand out and sets it over Illumi’s, but he pulls away. She waits for him to say something, but all Illumi does is slowly nod. He hopes she doesn’t read it as hesitation when it’s a gesture of fear. “Why?”

“Honestly? I lost feelings over time. We’ve both changed a lot since we got together and I want some time to consider what’s important to me in a relationship. It’s not fair to either of us to be in a relationship if we don’t care an equal amount. I’m sorry, Shizuku.” It’s not a lie. Not technically, at least, because Illumi never lied to her. He flicks his eyes up to meet her face but can’t hold her gaze when he sees the hurt in her eyes. 

“Okay. Let’s keep in touch, yeah?” Illumi looks up again. She’s okay? He feels a wave of relief wash over him when he notices that despite the waver in her voice, she’s not crying. 

“You’re not mad?”

“I don’t think mad is the right word. You have a fair point. It’s more upset. I still love you, but I can understand if you don’t feel that way anymore.” 

“Thank you. You still mean a lot to me, just not like that right now. So yes, let’s keep in touch.”

“Alright, then.” Shizuku smiles sadly.

Illumi is less than surprised when their date comes to an early close. An awkward silence settles over them as they find themselves walking out of the park before the sun had shown any sign of setting. Illumi still feels it’s warm rays against his shoulders. There was a chill in the air, but the lengthening days were indicating the coming spring. At this rate, the school year would be over before he knew it. 

He’s painfully aware that the coming year would be strange. Secret meetings with Hisoka had become its own sort of extracurricular, and he was not looking forward to leaving it behind. Come to think of it, what’s Hisoka going to do after he graduates? Illumi hadn’t ever asked and it hadn’t been brought up in conversation. The thought that they might separate in less than six months was one that both of the boys tended to dance around, never giving it the time of day that it needed. Illumi might hate to think that he’s developed any sort of co-dependency with the older, but if he's being honest with himself he knows he has. It was ill-advised to get overly attached to any person, but it was too easy for him to let himself fantasize about the things that could be.

When Illumi is back in the safety of his room he finds himself whipping out his phone and texting Hisoka to say that he had finally done it. He smiles at the picture he had snuck of Hisoka after their incident in the truck. Hisoka was playing with his hands, a soft blush spread across his cheeks. Illumi briefly wonders how many photos they can take together before the end of the school year. He would need enough to last him through the rest of the year should Hisoka decide to move away after graduation. A picture isn’t as good as having him there physically, but he has had a sort of history with photos of Hisoka - one photo in particular if he were to narrow it down. Maybe Hisoka still has the photo that he posted on his story those months ago? Illumi knows if he were to tell the story of what happened that night he would probably get made fun of, but Hisoka would tell him that he found it cute. Or maybe he would think the idea was hot - Illumi’s not sure what he would say. He doesn’t tend to pride himself on being a particularly carefree or impulsive person, but Illumi has discovered a new side of him in relation to Hisoka - one that doesn’t care what the outcomes of his decisions are near as much as he thinks he ought to.

His phone lights up with a notification. Hisoka congratulates him and Illumi responds with a smiley face. His finger hovers over the call button as he contemplates hitting it. He’d rather hear Hisoka’s voice than read his messages. In truth, texting always seemed far too impersonal for them. There’s something Illumi can’t quite describe about hearing his boyfriend’s voice, but he knows it makes him believe that everything will be okay, if only for a little bit. He taps the button and lets the phone ring. 

“Hello? Illu?”

“Hey,” Illumi breathes out. He falls back against his bed and stares up at his ceiling. “Thanks for picking up.”

“Of course I would pick up. Is everything okay?”

“Everything’s fine. I just wanted to hear your voice.”

“I see,” Hisoka hums, “you missed me.”

“I- I did not.” Even Illumi doesn’t believe himself. He feels a flush spread across his face and he scrunches it up in response. 

“Sure,” Hisoka chuckles, “You know, I’m proud of you.”

“You’re proud of me?”

“I am. Maybe it sounds stupid, but I know it took a lot of courage to do what you did.”

“Thanks, then.”

“I’m glad that you were able to get it over with. I can have you all to myself now,” Hisoka responds. Illumi bites the inside of his cheek. In some ways, it's almost a relief to hear Hisoka make it about him. It had been strange how he had nearly removed himself from the picture when he was one of the most important parts. 

“I actually have a question.” He’s going to ask. Hisoka is going to tell him he’s weird or stupid or laugh at him, but Illumi just needs to know whether or not he still has it. It has to be somewhere in his archive at least. “But you can’t laugh too much.”

“What is it?”

“So a few months ago, the day we met I think, you posted this particular photo on your story and I was wondering if you still had it? Just out of curiosity.”

“Can you be a little more descriptive?”

“Yeah it’s… you were-” Illumi stammers for a moment before taking an inhale and saying a prayer that Hisoka wouldn’t judge him too harshly because Illumi is quickly realizing that Hisoka’s opinion matters far too much to him. “You um… you weren’t wearing a shirt and I think you had just showered?”

“I can check. Any reason why it sticks in your mind?” Illumi can tell that Hisoka knows what kind of answer he will give. He doesn’t even have to ask, but he’s enjoying embarrassing Illumi.

“Well when I saw it that night- god this is so stupid,” Illumi sighs, “I looked at it and I, well… I got off to it. I guess I should’ve known then, but it took me at least a week to fully admit to myself what I felt.”

“You’re so cute,” Hisoka laughs. Illumi curls up in a ball on his bed. He’s not sure that this is any less mortifying than the thought of Hisoka making fun of him. “In that case, I’m sure I can dig it up. But if you ever want more photos you just have to let me know. Or you can call me.”

“Oh… okay,” Illumi says, “I’ll um… I’ll keep that in mind. Yeah.”

“Yeah,” Hisoka repeats and Illumi gives an airy laugh in response. “Going back to before, how did it go?”

“Shizuku? It was fine. She didn’t take it so hard, or at least she didn’t let it show if she did. I doubt she suspects anything.”

“Well, that’s good to hear.”

“Yeah.”

Illumi looks back up at his ceiling. He wonders if he could get those glow in the dark star stickers, the kind his room had when he was still a child. His parents would probably tell him they were far too juvenile, but he thinks they would be a nice addition. He could talk to Hisoka on the phone while he looks at them on the days that they weren’t together. It would be like the night on the balcony or the night in the truck.

“Do you want to come over later this week?”

“Of course I do,” Illumi responds, “I’ll let you know when I’m free?”

“Alright then,” Hisoka says and Illumi swallows. When was he going to be free? He really should get a planner or at least use the calendar on his phone or something. “We have a rain check to make up, don’t we?”

“We did say we had a rain check. You sure love to say things that will make me uncomfortable, don’t you?”

“You’d tell me to stop if you really hated it. Anyway, I know you’re blushing over there. It’s cute seeing you get all flustered like that.”

“I- I’ll have you know I am not flustered.” Illumi feels the heat on his face and the way his heart is racing like he’s just run a marathon, but he’s not about to let Hisoka know how much he affects him. 

“Okay.” Hisoka doesn’t sound convinced. “Mental note: remove the flustered part from your mental image of Illumi.”

“Well,” Illumi clears his throat, “you don’t have to.”

“See? I knew you liked it.”

“Am I being attacked?”

“Attacked? I would never,” Hisoka gasps melodramatically, earning a chuckle from Illumi on the other side of the phone. “How dare you accuse me of such a thing.”

“You should feel lucky that I spare you from such slander. How would you feel if this relationship suddenly became Hisoka slander time?”

“As long as I’m still with you, I don’t see myself minding so much.”

“Hey! You were supposed to side with me on this one. I can say that you very much would mind.”

“Whatever you say, Illu,” Hisoka sighs through the phone line, but Illumi has learned to recognize when he’s joking. He had so much practice when it came to the older boy playing around with him, he could practically identify the change in tone of voice in his sleep. “Should I stop calling you that? You had told me before that you didn’t like it.”

“It’s fine. I didn’t like you giving me a nickname before we knew each other so well, but…” Illumi trails off. “It’s not a big deal now. You could call me anything you wanted and I wouldn’t get upset.”

“Anything at all?”

“Well, no.” Illumi frowns. “I wouldn’t take so kindly to being called shitface.”

“Damn,” Hisoka responds. “There go my plans for the rest of the week.”

“If you call me a shitface I’m breaking up with you.”

“You would never!” Hisoka nearly yells and Illumi rolls over and starts laughing. He can hear Hisoka start laughing on the other side of the phone.

“You’re right. I’d probably just put up with it.”

“Well in that case-”

“I advise you to choose your next words very carefully. I’ll have you know I won’t hesitate to punch a bitch.”

“I’m not going to be calling you shitface because I’m not looking to get a black eye.”

“That’s what I thought.”

Illumi hears Hisoka sigh on the other side of the phone and he gives a faint smile. He stands up and paces around his room. He nearly trips on a dirty hoodie that he had tossed on his floor after school a couple of days before. They stay quiet for a minute or so before Illumi speaks again.

“I think I’m going to go. I have to do my homework.” 

“Alright, Illu. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Mmm,” Illumi hums in response, “Bye.”

Illumi hits the hang up button. He reaches for the phone charger near his nightstand and plugs it in, the screen lighting up as it begins to charge. His bag is sitting at the foot of his bed and he’s aware of how badly he needs to pull out his trigonometry homework. 

He regrets choosing to do his homework as soon as he sets it down on his desk. He looks out the window in front of it and squints at the setting sun. Illumi wishes that he could make the numbers and letters on the page make sense, but all he comes up with as he attempts to do the problems is the urge to bang his head against the desk. 

He’s going to have to figure something out. He hardly had enough time as is, where would he find the time to get a tutor? He’s aware that his grades have been slipping over the past month. His parents hadn’t mentioned it yet, but he’s sure that they will soon. Was it worth asking them for help? A bit of damage control, maybe. They would be upset that he hadn’t stayed on top of his schoolwork, but they would more than likely thank him for being upfront with them about it. That had to be the best course of action. He needed to make sure that they weren’t in a place to be easily angered should any other issues arrive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading as always! I honestly can't believe that y'all are being so nice to me about this story ngl :) I've been having a fun time writing it, especially the phone scene in this chapter. It can only be fluffy for so long, though... so prepare for the angst because I can't write stories without angst.
> 
> (Also because I didn't get an answer last time if you read this... do y'all want a smut scene? I'm very bad at writing them but I'll try if there's a desire for it because I don't wanna disappoint haha)


	11. Good for Everything

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is officially a Chrollo slander account.

Maybe asking his parents for help was the wrong choice. Illumi mentally curses himself for even thinking to ask as he sits across from Chrollo in the library. Really? Out of everyone his parents could’ve asked to tutor him, they had to ask him. Sure, he got good grades across the board and had plenty of free time since he wasn’t able to play football and was “a good influence” (whatever that's supposed to mean), but he wishes they could have looked at other people. We won’t even have to pay him, his parents had said. It will be easier that way. Illumi would rather have to pay out of his own money than listen to Chrollo drone on about something he doesn’t particularly understand for an hour every week.

“Are you listening?”

“What? Yeah, of course,” Illumi lies. He straightens himself out and turns his head to face Chrollo properly. 

“Alright, then. Moving on…” Illumi does his best to focus because as annoying as Chrollo is, always going on about school and sports and church when Illumi would rather just be left alone, he is his tutor and his best chance of getting an A in the class. He’ll just have to find a way to retain the information Chrollo's repeating to him. 

Illumi shifts awkwardly in the wooden chair as his eyes flick around the room. There are beanbags and a TV in the corner and shelves filled with books in rows towards the back of the room. For a library, it doesn’t have as many books as Illumi would’ve figured it should. It’s not like anybody at the school checked them out, anyway. On the off chance he would choose one to read, he would notice the last checkout date was a solid five years ago, maybe more. It was a wonder the school continued to spend money to buy new books. Their efforts did not go unnoticed by Illumi, but they were futile when it came to everyone else in the school. 

Except for maybe Chrollo. Is it possible to be both a jock and a nerd at the same time? 

Illumi squints his eyes to read the clock on the other side of the room. How much time do they have left? Five, ten minutes? He shakes his head in an attempt to clear it and focuses back on the papers in front of him. If he can just get through an hour of this every week his parents will be pleased. As much as he had been going behind their backs, Illumi knows deep down he still cares about what they think. He cares so much that it hurts and the more he pushes that down the more it threatens to swallow him whole. He had come so far already, wasn’t it too late to become the person who they wanted? Yes, he tells himself. It is too late. It was too late the moment you met him in the church. Suddenly, Illumi had all the judgment of a reckless kid. 

He’ll whine to Hisoka about all that later. Illumi knows he has to focus because as much as he hates to admit it, Chrollo isn’t half bad as a tutor. If that is, Illumi can manage to swallow his distaste for him. 

Illumi walks out of the library and discovers that he knows considerably more than he did at the beginning of their session, even with his inability to focus for more than five minutes of a time. Chrollo’s good at teaching too? Disgusting. It's annoying how good Chrollo is at it. He's the perfect kid, perfect in a way Illumi never will be. He's smart and athletic and so much more. He'd graduate high school and go to some elite college while Illumi had no idea what he was even going to do post-graduation. Illumi is sure his parents would much rather have a son like Chrollo because no matter how good he had gotten at putting on the mask of being the perfect child, there was only so much that he could fake for them. He can’t wave a magic wand and suddenly become more athletic or smarter or less gay.

There it was. None of the other things would be so important if he wasn’t gay. His parents would continue to love a kid who wasn’t good at sports or who got a C in calculus. They would love a kid who didn’t get into a great college or go into seminary. There are a lot of things they would find it within themselves to love. A gay kid, Illumi knows, is not one of those things. But that’s fine. Really, it is. They don’t need to know.

He hears footsteps behind him and sighs. Chrollo taps his shoulder and he turns around to face him, plastering a fake smile on his face. Fuck tutoring, Illumi is starting to think it would be a good idea to invest in acting classes.

“Do you need a ride home?”

“I-” Maybe if Illumi lived closer he would be able to say no. At least he hadn’t told Hisoka he wasn’t planning to stop by after tutoring, because he didn’t have a good excuse to give Chrollo. “Yeah, that would be good. Thanks a lot.”

“Of course! Your parents said they dropped you off this morning and you didn’t have a way to get back home.”

His parents told him that? Illumi hadn’t even known they had Chrollo’s number, let alone that they talked to him about giving him a ride home. He looks around the parking lot and locks eyes with a certain somebody from across the way. He smiles as he sees that red hair. Hisoka waves at him and he raises his hand and waves back. What was he doing there? Illumi will ask him later, then.

A lack of proper judgment on his part. Illumi realizes the folly almost immediately and curses himself for it. He knows he’s been becoming progressively riskier - staying out later and sneaking out of the house while his parents were still awake - but he needs to keep Chrollo out of it.

“Do you know him?” Chrollo asks. 

“Hmmm? Sure,” Illumi answers, knowing that no would not be a believable answer. “We’re lab partners. I’m just being nice.”

“Alright. Do be careful,” Chrollo responds, “Don’t go getting involved with the wrong sort of people.”

Illumi bristles. The wrong sort of people? Who is he, Draco Malfoy? Why should he be allowed to pass judgment? Illumi doubts he has spoken to Hisoka a day in his life. He swallows the bile that forms at the base of his throat and forces a small smile. 

“I will. Don’t worry.”

Chrollo’s car blocks out nearly all of the road noise that Illumi is used to hearing. He couldn’t help but feel a bristle of jealousy when he had seen Chrollo’s car. It was only natural, he told himself. Illumi wishes that his parents would, or could, buy him a brand new car, but he decides not to dwell on it. It would be no good, he tells himself, to think about how they could have lived a slightly more lavish lifestyle had his father gone into something that paid better. Something more practical.

Illumi pulls out his phone as he makes casual conversation with Chrollo. Did the tutoring help at all? Actually, yes. Illumi had not expected it to help as much as it did. Chrollo had decided to join the football team next year. That’s nice. He thinks Illumi should join too. Illumi says he’ll think about it.

He lets the small talk continue in a similar manner as his finger hovers above Hisoka’s contact. He clicks on it and types out a message - he had wanted to stop over after school but something came up. Assuming he could get out of the house, he was going to come over during the night.

Illumi’s not sure that it is a good idea to do so without any former planning, but he needs to blow off some steam to someone. In all honesty, Illumi’s not sure who he would tell all this to, if not Hisoka. His parents were off-limits. As were his siblings, they’re probably the same as he was at their age, as well as Shizuku, Chrollo, or any of the other friends he sees at school. He supposes he could talk to Machi, it would be good for him even, but she lives an hour away and he’s not going to get in the habit of asking her to come down to meet him on a whim. If Illumi wants to tell anyone, it’s going to have to be Hisoka. He had come to admit, the rain check would be an added bonus, assuming it would happen. He had been feeling progressively less guilty about his desire to do it, and Illumi can safely say to himself that he’s excited about the idea. 

Hisoka responds with a thumbs up and Illumi shuts off his phone so he can continue listening to Chrollo go on. Does the kid have no idea of when to shut up? Maybe that’s what the combination of a sheltered childhood and absolutely zero social awareness will do to you. 

Chrollo drops him off in front of his door and waves goodbye. Illumi walks down the curving driveway. His parents have been saying they’ve needed to patch up the exterior of the house - the blue paint is slowly peeling off the siding of the home and the flowerbeds are half dead. Illumi doesn’t find it so bad, but his parents have always been meticulous about the family’s presentation, even when he felt that it couldn’t matter less.

The door opens with a creak and Illumi takes off his shoes in the sunroom. He can hear Alluka and Killua playing in the nearby living room and he smiles at the sound. He heads down the hallways lined with pictures before setting his backpack on the bed in his room. He takes a moment to breathe before heading back into the kitchen to help his mother prepare dinner. He still hasn’t mentioned Shizuku… he supposes he’ll tell her now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Filler chapter, I know. But that's fine because I got to talk about my negative feelings towards Chrollo. Honestly FRICK him, no offense to the Chrollo simps and stans. Anyway, I can't wait to get the next chapter out ;)


	12. Satanic Teacup Time

Kikyo and Silva hardly seemed to mind that he had broken up with Shizuku. Illumi had expected far worse, but he was met with apparent indifference, although he had a feeling they cared more than they were letting on. Assuming they never expressed their true opinions, he didn’t see why it mattered. He had told them that he felt he had grown too much as a person to continue being in a relationship with the same person he was dating in middle school, and they hadn’t offered any rebuttal.

He’s glad that it didn’t take too long. Perhaps he wouldn’t have had the time to visit Hisoka had they gotten caught up in insignificant details, but he ended up with plenty of time to finish his homework and make it over to the older boy’s house. Once he was sure they were asleep he packed a bag, just in case he happened to stay overnight and pushed the screen out of his window in the fashion that had become familiar to him over the past few months.

Illumi looks up at the darkened sky. He can see the leaves starting to form on the trees and there’s a hint of warmth in the air, but not so much as to stop him from wearing a heavy jacket. Illumi is panting by the time he reaches Hisoka’s house. He practically ran there in hopes of having more time together, but he found the hills were not so kind to him.

He scales the fence that surrounds Hisoka’s house - he knows the back door will be open. He opens the door to see Hisoka sitting on top of the island in the kitchen and waiting for something to finish in the microwave. His legs are crossed in front of him and he turns to smile at Illumi as the door opens.

“You made it.”

“Indeed I did,” Illumi responds. He hesitates for a moment before jumping onto the island and sitting next to Hisoka. Their thighs are pressed flush together and Hisoka bumps their shoulders together. “Do we have any plans for tonight?”

“Yeah, I’m just making some popcorn so we can watch a movie.”

“Oooh, what movie are we going to watch?”

“Beauty and the Beast.”

“You’ve finally decided to make me watch your Disney movies, huh?” 

“I’m not sure you’ve lived until you have,” Hisoka responds. Illumi laughs. That’s probably an exaggeration, but he’s excited nonetheless. 

“Well, my parents weren’t too fond of the magic. Apparently, magic is of the devil. I wouldn’t know, I’ve never talked to him. I still have a long life ahead of me, anyway.”

“Well, that sucks,” Hisoka says, “but it’s also precisely why we have to watch it now. Just our daily dose of Satan.”

Illumi jumps off the island when the microwave timer ends and grabs the bag of popcorn out of the microwave. Hisoka grabs a large bowl and Illumi promptly empties the large bag into the silver bowl that had been set before him. 

“You sure made a lot of popcorn, huh? I didn’t even know they made bags this big,” Illumi says.

“I have a feeling we’re going to need it all.”

“You’re…” Illumi picks up the bowl, “not wrong.”

“Am I ever wrong?” Hisoka says and leads Illumi into the living room. The leather couch is in the center of the room, across from a large television. The exterior wall was made almost entirely of windows, allowing Illumi to look outside as he settles into the couch.

“You’re definitely wrong sometimes.”

“Whatever. You wound me.”

“Don’t act like a puppy dog just because I won’t stroke your ego.”

Hisoka laughs in response and reaches for the remote on the nearby coffee table. Illumi grabs a nearby banket and spreads it over their laps as Hisoka scrolls through the television channels. Illumi scoots closer to him and reaches out to hold his free hand. He smiles as he feels Hisoka start to rub circles into his hand with his thumb.

Illumi uses his free hand to grab a handful of popcorn as the movie begins. He wonders if he had missed out on an important aspect of other people’s childhood because of his parents' silly rules. It had never been too much of a concern - he brushed the idea off if it ever crossed his mind. It was just a movie after all. Yet, he finds the movie does have a sort of whimsy that could be used to define a standard childhood. He doesn’t consider the movie to be particularly satanic unless satan was a talking teacup. 

The movie is about halfway through when Illumi becomes aware of a pair of eyes glued to his face. He bites the inside of his cheek and tries his best to appear nonchalant when in actuality his heart is racing inside his chest. Hisoka is staring at him. Those golden eyes are staring at him for some reason. They’ve chosen to settle on Illumi Zoldyck when they probably could’ve chosen anyone else in the world. Why him?

“You’re staring.”

“I am,” Hisoka responds. 

Illumi licks his lips and tries his best to focus his attention on the television in front of him, but it’s hard to ignore the steady thumping of his heart inside his chest. How loud is it? Can Hisoka hear? His eyes flit over to meet Hisoka’s. He feels a hand come to rest on his cheek and turn it to face Hisoka.

“Hey,” Hisoka says, a soft smile spreading across his features.

“Hey.”

“Can I kiss you?” Illumi nods in response.

Hisoka puts a hand on the nape of his neck and pulls him closer. Illumi flutters his eyes close as their lips meet. Illumi hears the movie stop as Hisoka turns off the television with the remote. Illumi nips softly at the older boy’s lower lip and runs his tongue along it to taste the faint flavor of blood. He breathes out into the kiss as Hisoka brings a hand to run through his long hair. 

Illumi could stay like this for hours - nipping at Hisoka’s lips, his tongue inside his mouth, lips pressed together and panting for air - but he’s keenly aware that both of them are urging for something more, wanting skin pressed flush against skin and hands everywhere. He pulls away from Hisoka for a moment and lets him pull Illumi in front of him to straddle his lap. Illumi swallows as he looks into his eyes before leaning in again to reconnect their lips. He brings his hands down to rest on Hisoka’s hips and feels a large hand reach around to press against his back, dragging him closer. He feels a pressure build in his lower stomach and Hisoka detaches their lips to press gentle kisses against his neck. 

“Illu?” He raises his head to look Illumi in the eyes.

“...Yeah?”

“Are you sure you want this? Like really sure?”

“I’m sure, Hisoka.”

“Alright…” Hisoka bites his bottom lip and Illumi can sense the hesitation in his voice.

“Really. If I’m being honest, I-” Illumi swallows his pride as he feels a blush spread across his face. “I don’t think I’ve ever wanted something so much in my life.”

Illumi’s not sure when they make their way to Hisoka’s bedroom. In all honesty, the actions begin to blur together - hands running through his hair and over his chest, mouth wet against his neck, soft sighs that make him feel like he’s going to melt - before he can register what’s happening, he’s in Hisoka’s bed and his shirt is being pulled off over his head.

Illumi glances down at his chest, suddenly self-conscious, but a finger presses under his chin and forces him to meet eyes with Hisoka. He swallows thickly as his heart skips a beat.

“You’re still here with me?” Hisoka asks. Illumi just nods in response, tongue flitting out to wet his lips. “Let me know if I need to slow down.”

Hisoka begins to nip along his collarbone, taking his time to suck and draw the blood out from beneath Illumi’s skin. Something in Illumi’s brain registers that he’s going to have hickeys to cover up for a solid week, but he also doesn’t care because he’s about to explode from even the lightest touches. He stills wants to make Hisoka feel good; what’s the point if it’s all about his own pleasure? 

His pale fingers wrap against Hisoka’s wrist, nails digging in and leaving crescent moons behind. Hisoka stops. 

“Is everything okay?”

“I-” Illumi casts his eyes to the ground. Despite the closeness, he doesn’t want to admit what he wants to do - something about speaking it feels so much more wrong than just doing it. “I want to make you feel good.” He drags his hands down to rest on the waistband of Hisoka’s pants and slips a finger underneath it. “Please?”

“You don’t have to ask,” Hisoka responds. His hands lift to cup Illumi’s face, resting against his cheeks. “Do what you please.”

Illumi bites his lip but pushes the nerves from his stomach. Hisoka’s pants slide off with relative ease, and he drops to his knees in front of the bed. He can see Hisoka’s eyes widen as he does. Illumi’s not sure what to do first - if he’s being honest, he’s not sure what he’s supposed to do in general. He slides off Hisoka’s underwear, exhaling as he does. He figures that if he can imagine what would feel good to him and recreate it, it would suffice well enough. 

Illumi’s teeth leave soft marks as he begins to suck and nip against the inside of Hisoka’s thighs, earning soft moans and the beginnings of red bruises. He moves his way up until he’s staring directly at Hisoka’s cock and exhaling shakily. He wraps one trembling hand around the base and leans forward to lick the tip. He swirls his tongue around the top, smiling proudly when Hisoka gasps and wraps his fingers through black, silky strands of hair. He starts to take it into his mouth in whole, stopping when he finds he can’t take any more without gagging.

Bobbing his head up and down, Illumi feels the tip graze the back of his throat and he nearly chokes. Hisoka’s groans and fingers pulling impossibly hard in his hair encourage him onwards; he continues the motion even when it becomes hard to breathe. It’s so good like this - knowing that he can make Hisoka feel like this, that he’s the only one who makes him feel like this. Black eyelashes block his view, but Illumi can make out yellow eyes glazed over by arousal.

He’s pulled away by his hair, whining at the loss of contact. There’s spit dripping down his chin, and he’s breathing heavy. Illumi is vaguely aware of a soreness in his throat, but he finds he doesn’t mind. After all, it’s just a side effect. What he does mind, however, is Hisoka pulling him away before he wanted to.

“Why did you-” Illumi pants, struggling to catch his breath. “Why did you make me stop?”

“There are other things we want to do, right?” Illumi nods. “I don’t want to finish early.”

“W-what-” Illumi frowns, “I don’t even know what I’m doing.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” Hisoka laughs, sitting back onto the bed and dragging Illumi onto it with him. “It’s even better because it’s you, y’know? You’re so hot and perfect and beautiful and just wow, it turns me on.”

“Stop,” Illumi smiles and playfully hits Hisoka. “You’re even cheesy like this while we’re…” 

“What can I say? I get sappy around you.”

Hisoka presses a kiss to Illumi’s forehead. Settling against the pillows, Illumi watches as Hisoka reaches into his nightstand and pulls out a bottle. Illumi’s not sure if he’s more nervous or excited as he watches, the feeling in his chest multiplying with the addition of the anticipation.

“It might hurt a little, okay?” Hisoka asks, smoothing a hand through Illumi’s hair.

“Yeah. Just… just do it.” 

The bottle opens with a pop and Hisoka pours the lube over his fingers and around Illumi’s entrance. It’s cold, and Illumi shivers as it comes into contact with his skin, the temperature juxtaposed with the feeling of Hisoka’s tongue warm in his mouth. He sighs into the kiss, but gasps as he feels a finger prodding at his entrance. It begins to slip in, and Illumi isn’t sure if it feels good yet. More than anything, it feels foreign, weird to have something inside him like this. As they continue to kiss, Illumi feels a second finger slowly enter. They curl inside him, and there it is - that feeling that he was waiting for. He moans into an open-mouthed kiss as they brush against a particularly sensitive bundle of nerves. Hisoka is smirking into the kiss, he can feel it, and in any other scenario he’d complain about it, but Illumi isn’t complaining now. He’s not complaining as Hisoka takes his time to stretch him open, eventually adding a third finger. Illumi’s cock jumps as those three fingers prod incessantly against that perfect place. His eyes are closed, but he’s not sure if he would be able to see anything if they were open - would he find his vision completely clouded over by lust?

He hears himself whine at the loss of the fingers, and he shuffles up to look at Hisoka. Hisoka is staring back at him, pupils blown wide and lips red from being kissed. Illumi wonders if he should say something - tell him how good he looks like this, how beautiful he is, but the words catch in his throat. 

“You- you stopped.”

“Give me just a moment. “

Hisoka tears open a condom packet, holding Illumi’s gaze. Even when Illumi wants to look away, he finds that he can’t. He’s stuck staring, watching as Hisoka rolls on the condom and pours more lube onto his dick. He’s spreading it with his hands, moving them up and down, and Illumi wonders if he would ever do that for him, just let him watch him get off because if he’s being honest, it’s really hot.

“That’s um…” Illumi shouldn’t be saying anything. He shouldn’t ruin the mood. Still, something in his brain tells him he has to say something, he can’t just sit there quietly like that. “That’s a lot of lube.”

“You’re going to need it.” Illumi nearly chokes and Hisoka waves his hands around. “I didn’t mean it like that just - it’s probably going to hurt at first. But I promise it’ll feel good after.”

“Okay,” Illumi whispers, biting his lips.

Hisoka lays him back, his legs bending upwards to rest by his hips. Illumi’s hands are intertwined with Hisoka’s as he stares up at him. He can feel something hard pressing against his ass and bites the inside of his cheek as he softly moans. Hisoka takes one hand to rest against Illumi’s hip, supporting him as he slowly enters. Illumi immediately knows Hisoka was right - it’s not comfortable, the stretch causing a burning sensation that spreads to his lower back. Logically, Hisoka’s dick would be much bigger than his fingers, but he hadn’t expected it to feel so much bigger. He lets out a shaky breath after he feels Hisoka bottom out. How long had it taken? Illumi hadn’t been paying attention to the time.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I-” Illumi swallows as a shoot of pain runs through his spine. “Just give me a moment to get used to the feeling, okay?”

Illumi lets the feeling sit, and he finds it fading with time as his body adjusts to the stretch. Eventually, he nods at Hisoka. He feels Hisoka gingerly pull out before pressing back in, earning a soft moan from the both of them. It’s another new feeling, but Illumi finds that he really, really likes it, likes the feeling of being so much a part of someone he loves so much. Hisoka’s pace gradually speeds up, and he brushes against those nerves that make all the green lights go off in Illumi’s brain, his head throwing back as he lets out a string of curses.

“Found it?”

Illumi nods vigorously, urging Hisoka to continue. The pace continues to increase until Hisoka is thrusting and panting with every movement. Illumi feels like he’s floating over his body, like this pleasure is both part of him and not, part of something deeper, something he can’t quite place. Hisoka is over him, looking so enraptured, so wanton, but so in love, and Illumi decides he loves this. He loves every part of it, even the ones that make him feel awkward or stupid because more than anything he feels loved.

Hisoka thrusts the right way one too many times, and Illumi’s cock jerks before he comes, shooting white ropes onto his own stomach. He hadn’t even noticed how close he was, too busy paying attention to everything and nothing at the same time. Hisoka thrusts a couple more times before coming as well, a sigh leaving his lips.

As Illumi comes down from his high the pain starts to set in, a soreness spreading throughout his back and exhaustion settling over him. He watches Hisoka pull out and tie off the condom before leaving to get a towel.

Illumi isn’t sure how long he’s gone for or when he comes back - he hasn’t been this tired in quite a while. It's a different kind of tired - he's worn out in an entirely new way.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m great. Just tired.”

“Do you want to spend the night?”

“Can I?”

“Of course.”

“Then yes. I’d love to.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That uh, that happened. It's my first go writing something like that but I think it turned out okay. I hope y'all liked it haha :)


	13. Do Not Enter

Light streams in through the window and Hisoka’s hands are busy combing through the dark hair that sits in his lap. It had become tangled overnight - Illumi had always moved a terrible amount in his sleep. Were there hands in his hair? Was something touching him? He tenses briefly, but it’s only Hisoka. Maybe he should feign sleep, letting long fingers untangle his hair and split it into sections to be braided. 

Hisoka comes into sight as he flutters his eyelids open. The light coming in from behind them causes Hisoka’s hair to be backlit, and Illumi thinks it looks vaguely like a halo. The angel in question gives him a smile and he returns it, content to sit there without speaking.

“Good morning,” Hisoka greets him.

“Good morning to you as well,” Illumi responds and sits up, hands falling out of his hair. Multiple messy braids are scattered around the strands. They’re going to leave waves in his hair, but Illumi finds no desire to remove them in spite of this. 

“Are you hungry?” Illumi nods. “My dad’s probably home, but he won’t mind you being over. He doesn’t care what I do.”

Pain shoots through Illumi’s spine when he attempts to stand up. He grinds his teeth together. Was he supposed to be this sore? Ignoring the pain, he pushes himself to his feet. His phone buzzes on the nearby nightstand - Hisoka must have plugged it in for him. A pair of eyes linger on Illumi’s face to say, aren’t you going to pick up?

“I’ll need to come up with an excuse,” Illumi says.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. It was my choice to stay. Let’s get something to eat.”

******

Chrollo is not going to be pleased, but Illumi couldn’t come up with a better solution. Going home after school without a prepared excuse would be asking to be grounded for life. He’d just owe Chrollo a favor. Hopefully, the favor would be something small, something manageable, but if Illumi intends to keep his relationship under wraps, he has to find a viable excuse.

“You want me to…” Chrollo stares at Illumi. “What?”

“I know, I’m sorry. I need you to do this for me,” Illumi says, desperation lacing his voice. He keeps his voice low to avoid drawing attention from the rest of the class. “I’ll owe you one.”

“Fine,” Chrollo shifts in his chair and squints at Illumi. “You do know it isn’t right to lie like this?”

“Yes, I know,” Of course he knows. If lying was Chrollo’s biggest issue he was nearly a saint in comparison to Illumi. Naturally, he had been prepared to be ratted out for doing something “wrong” like lying to his parents. “Just tell them I was with you. I’ll have your back if you need it.”

“Where were you? Actually?”

“Where was I?” Where was he? In an ideal world, Chrollo wouldn’t pick up on his hesitation as his eyes flitted around the classroom, but Illumi has never regarded lying as his strong suit. Something simple, but also believable. Something easy to remember. This is the kind of lie he’d have to come up with. “That doesn’t matter. We can talk about it later, okay? The bell is going to ring soon.” 

Great job, Illumi. Go and choose something so vague. That’s not going to get questioned at all.

“I see…” Chrollo clears his throat and leans further into the chair. It creaks as he does, but he’s lucky to have a chair with a back at all. The bookshelf at the back of the classroom was about to fall apart as well, and students were sitting on the floor to do their work rather than deal with the uncomfortable chairs. “I won’t question it, then.” He’s not going to question it? Why is he not going to question it?

A sharp ring sounds through the school and Illumi thanks God that that conversation could be over. It seemed that the more he talked the more convoluted his web of lies would become. As long as Chrollo took his excuses at face value, he’d be okay. With that being said, he doesn’t trust Chrollo’s ability to keep his mouth shut and not ask too many questions. If he had more normal friends, maybe he would’ve had a proper excuse. He thinks most friends don’t grill you on where you actually were when you ask them to cover for you. He couldn’t say. 

There are far too many people in the hallway for his tastes. Claustrophobic isn’t the right word, he had decided. It wasn’t a fear - he wasn’t scared. Annoyed was a better term. Why someone would choose to go to a crowded party or event was far beyond him. Shoulders brushing and toes being stepped on was not his idea of fun, but he wonders if there’s some anonymity to being in a large crowd. He’s not sure if this is why he lets himself pick out flaming red hair in the sea of people and approach Hisoka in front of everyone. This is, however, what he uses to explain it to himself.

Nobody was paying attention to anyone else when there were so many people crammed in such a tight space. Not in a way that mattered, at least. The mass of bodies was just that - a mass of nameless, faceless bodies. Consequently, nobody was going to read too far into how he laughed as he engaged in conversation with Hisoka. They were just regular students, like everyone else. Nobody would notice when he held Hisoka’s hand. After all, the way the subtle action makes Illumi’s heart soar is well worth the risk. Perhaps somewhere inside his mind, the risk makes it all even more exhilarating. 

And it is so, so exhilarating. He runs his thumb over the top of Hisoka’s hand and smiles. Is this what it’s like to be in a normal high school relationship? Maybe he could make this work. The only people who would even care enough to tell his parents are Chrollo and Shizuku. If he learned their schedules and made sure to steer clear of them during the day, maybe he would be able to have a near-normal relationship.

“Are you happy?” Illumi’s voice is nearly drowned out by the chattering that echoes off the walls, and he has to lean closer into Hisoka to be heard.

“Happy?” 

“Sure. That we’re you know,” Guilt washes over him. With someone else, Hisoka could do this kind of thing all the time. “Doing relationship things in public. Isn’t it annoying to always hide?”

“I’ve told you not to worry about it. I’m not going to pressure you into doing anything you don’t want to, let alone anything that isn’t safe.”

“Oh.”

Illumi reluctantly lets go of Hisoka’s hand when he gets to his class. He immediately misses the contact, but he waves goodbye and heads inside to sit down.

He doesn’t see Hisoka for the rest of the school day, and he can’t decide if that’s a good thing or not. After all, if he saw him too often it would only be a matter of time before he did something rash and outed himself to the entire world. There isn’t a chance of him being outed like that when he’s trying to stay awake in the back of his math classroom or when he’s eating lunch in the library or when he’s pulling into his driveway and walking into the front door of his house. 

His parents are sitting on the couch when he steps inside. 

Kikyo’s legs are crossed as she picks at her nails, and Silva is staring at Illui pointedly. Illumi feels his heart drop into his stomach and he turns into the kitchen. If he can just sneak past them…

“Where are you going?” Illumi hears Kikyo’s voice as he stops walking.

“I’m going to my room.”

“No, you aren’t. Get back here.”

Alright, so Illumi is getting back there. He sighed, turning around and going back to the living room. His backpack hit the floor with a soft thud, and he sat down next to it. The carpet suddenly became very interesting. Has it always been this interesting? 

“Illumi.”

“Father.”

“Mind telling us where you were last night?”

Fuck.

Illumi’s tongue rests heavy in his mouth and his fingers thread through the pieces of carpet. He doesn’t want to make eye contact with either of his parents and instead opts to look at the popcorn ceiling. 

“I- I was at Chrollo’s house.”

“That’s a lie.” Silva clears his throat and rearranges how he’s sitting on the couch.

“No it’s not.”

“Chrollo talked to us.”

Of course he did, that conniving bastard. Brain running a million miles an hour, Illumi searches for a better lie. His parents would believe Chrollo over him - that much had already been established. So what to say… 

It would’ve been easier if he had come up with a lie beforehand. Hell, he could’ve used an entire list of lies for every possible scenario. How long has he been thinking for? If Silva and Kikyo were to notice the silence and read into it, well, it wouldn’t be good for him.

“Where were you? I’ve asked once already.” Illumi has never been the best at reading people, but he doesn’t have to be to tell what his father is thinking. His voice is low and he enunciates his words well. The tips of his ears are red; he stares at Illumi intensely enough to burn holes through his forehead.

“A kid in my grade had a party,” Illumi swallows. A kid? Which kid? If Silva were to ask, which kid would it have been? “I… I was there. I’m sorry.”

“Why the fuck would you go to a party?” Illumi flinches when his father’s voice raises. “What were you thinking? What if the cops had shown up? What would’ve happened then? You know what, you think you know everything but you’re just a stupid child.”

“Father-”

“Shut up. I don’t want to hear it.” Silva lets out a deep breath and rubs a hand over his face. “Give us your phone.” 

“But-”

“Just give the damn phone!”

Illumi fishes his phone out of his backpack and hands it over. Silva rips it out of his hand, and for once Illumi feels tears prick the corners of his eyes. It’s stupid, isn’t it? Crying over having his phone taken. But Illumi finds that he is devastated anyway.

“Just- go to your room.” It’s the first thing his mother has said during the whole conversation. 

Illumi doesn’t need to be told twice.

His bag is heavy on his shoulders as he walks through the house. A sore starts to form from where he’s been chewing on the inside of his cheek; he can taste blood on his tongue.

Illumi really, really doesn’t want to do his homework. He wants to be texting Hisoka, complaining about all the things that had happened that day, complaining about Chrollo. Instead, he’s running his hands through his hair as he attempts to find the molecular mass of calcium sulfate. This is not near as fun as talking to someone who actually cares about what he has to say, but it’s a good distraction. 

When he cries he chalks it up to frustration at his homework, despite having very little trouble in chemistry. He wipes his tears off on the collar of his shirt, not wanting them to fall onto and stain the paper. 

Dinner that night is more awkward than it’s been in years. Illumi goes to bed early, not wanting to waste his time re-reading one of the books on his shelf for the fourth time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so it begins...
> 
> It's been a bit since the last update,, oops... But I'm snowed in for the foreseeable future, and with no school and no way out, I hope to get more writing done. I'm planning on starting a series of ships and aus chosen by a random wheel thing, so it would be cool if you guys wanted to read that.
> 
> Thanks so much for reading this! I hope it isn't getting too stretched out, but I do have an ending in mind. :)


	14. I Don't Want the World to See Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The calm before the storm.

Illumi’s shocked that his parents didn’t decide to take his car too, but he’s pulling into the school parking lot the next morning and letting his head fall against the steering wheel. It would be rather convenient to have his phone when he was feeling like this. There’s no way of knowing where Hisoka would be, but Illumi figures it doesn’t hurt to do a once over of the school building anyway. He has the time.

The school looks the same way it did every other day - cliques of students gathered in the commons, crowded around tables, having various conversations that Illumi can’t differentiate. Their words clash together like waves against the shore. What would it have been like to be one of them? 

It doesn’t matter. Illumi is looking for one boy in particular, and there’s no point in searching for him among the groups of people. Why look for something in a place where it will never be found?

Instead, he finds his legs moving down a hallway until he reaches a door. He exits the building. It’s the place where he and Hisoka first met - that brick wall and cracked pavement, and Hisoka is sitting against the ground, nose buried in a book.

“Hey,” Illumi whispers, and Hisoka looks up to make eye contact with him. A small smile spreads across Hisoka’s face, and he pushes against the cement as he stands up.

“Hey,” Hisoka clears his throat and places his book inside his backpack. “What’s going on?”

“It’s just been…” What should he say? Hisoka has never been anything but honest, breaking down his walls for him, telling him all these parts of himself that he had never told anyone before. Wouldn’t it be unfair for Illumi to do anything otherwise? “It’s been a rough past twelve hours.”

“Can I ask what happened?” Illumi nods in response.

“So I had asked Chrollo to cover for me being at your house, right? Except he didn’t know where I actually was, of course, I didn’t tell him that much.”

“Right.”

“So I get home and my parents are sitting there, waiting for me, and that bitch ratted me out! I had no good reason to trust him, but I can’t believe he did it just like that. My parents were all like, where were you, and I couldn’t tell them the truth, so I just told them I was at a party because it was a believable lie. Not that that covered me, though. So now they have my phone. We can’t text anymore, and I’m on really thin ice when it comes to sneaking out.”

Illumi doesn’t even know he has tears of anger on his face until one falls into his mouth, and fuck, this is the umpteenth time he’s cried this week alone. Why does all of this have to be so hard? Hisoka takes his face in his hands and smooths one finger underneath Illumi’s eye, wiping away the tears. 

“It’s going to be okay,” Hisoka whispers, “Everything is going to be fine. I’m always here for you, and we can make it work even if we can’t meet up outside of school.”

Illumi hopes it’s not a lie. Somewhere in him, he feels that it is an empty promise. That maybe everything he had been told had been an empty promise. But the louder part of his brain screams that it isn’t true. Screams that Hisoka cares about him, really truly does, cares about him in a way he hasn’t ever cared about someone else before.

“How did I get so lucky?” Illumi’s voice comes out weak and unstable, but he smiles through the tears.

“Lucky?”

“I don’t deserve you, I don’t deserve any of this. I’ve done nothing and you’re so nice to me all the time, even when it would be easier for you to just give up.”

“You deserve more than I could ever give you, Illumi. You deserve more than the world has to offer.”

“No, I don’t! That’s the thing, why do you keep saying these things? Why do you give me so much and think I deserve it when I don’t at all?”

“I-” Hisoka’s eyes dart away from Illumi’s face for a fleeting moment. “It’s because I love you, Illumi. I love you so much, and I’d give anything for you to see yourself the same way I see you.”

“I-” 

“You don’t have to say it back if you don’t want to. I just thought you should know.”

“No, I do love you.” Illumi laughs and sniffles. His head is pounding, but he ignores the pain in favor of joy. “I do love you, I really do. That’s exactly why I think you deserve more than me.”

“Well, you’ll just have to be content knowing that being with you as you are is the thing that will make me happiest.”

“Even if I don’t understand it?”

“You don’t have to understand it,” Hisoka takes one of Illumi’s hands in his own. “You just have to be okay with it.”

“Okay.” Illumi’s voice is barely above a whisper. “I’ll be okay with it, then.”

They spend a moment like that, Illumi’s face in Hisoka’s hands, one of his arms coming up so he can hold Hisoka where he was - cold, smooth hands on his face, rubbing circles on his cheek and under his eye. Everything was right, everything was perfect. Quiet and peaceful, but with the knowledge that he would never be alone, even if something in him wanted to be alone, wanted it so desperately, Hisoka would always be with him.

Illumi wishes the bell would disappear, but he has to pick up his things when it rings and say goodbye to Hisoka as he heads off to first hour. The feeling of fingers against his face stays as he walks down the hall, and he wishes he could have it back. He wishes he could feel those fingers slot perfectly into his, wishes he could have what he always assumed Hisoka wanted. A normal relationship.

Illumi would give anything to not have to see Chrollo. He might not deserve Hisoka, but he does deserve to not have to deal with that prick so early in the morning. 

There’s some sort of expectation in his mind that Chrollo will interact with him, but Chrollo doesn’t spare him as much of a glance. Maybe he’s made of glass? Maybe he’s suddenly transformed into a sculpture made of the clearest glass in the universe and nobody can see him, not even Chrollo. But when the teacher calls on him, Illumi knows this isn’t true. Chrollo is purposefully ignoring him.

Perhaps he feels guilty, but Illumi doubts that’s true. A more accurate guess would be that he wasn’t trying to start anything, wasn’t trying to get into a situation where he would come out with a black eye. And as much as Illumi would love to put him in that situation, it would end up being more harmful than helpful.

The bell rings eight more times that day, buzzes uniform and loud. The hours tick by and Illumi is getting back into his car and making the commute home once again, without having seen Hisoka since that morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And I've reached the end of what has been pre-written. Hopefully, my chapters don't get way worse from here... Anyways! This chapter was kinda short (sorry), but I hope y'all like it anyway :)


	15. Black and White

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The thread finally snaps.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! First up, I made a playlist of songs for this fic, found here: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/10cvCFWn8hr7yxYmQf8ktV?si=ipkeadslR8WUEsj5vESVWQ
> 
> TW for big homophobia here + slurs
> 
> Also, would you guys prefer longer chapters less often or are you ok with the current system?
> 
> This fic is almost done, it's getting there at least, and thank you so much for all of your support! It's crazy to me that there's anyone out there who is excited when I update or happy to read my chapters.

His parents are waiting again when he gets home.

Because of course, they are.

Of course, it’s just his luck to have them sitting there, looking at him pointedly. He doesn’t even try to run. Tongue heavy in his mouth, he stands there, waiting for them to speak. If only they would say something, say anything, spit it out and not leave him standing there. His eyes hit the ground as his fathers search his face. 

“Let’s talk, Illu,” Illumi is taken aback by the softness in his father’s voice. He hadn’t heard it for so long, that kindness and sympathy and he has no idea what to do with it. 

“Talk…” He exhales. “Talk about what?”

“Can you sit?”

Illumi crosses the living room, his feet feeling like lead as he drags them across the floor. Curling up in a chair, he bites his lip in worry. 

“We had Killua open your phone,” Silva starts and Illumi’s world comes crashing down. What hits first? The fear? The devastation? The betrayal? With six words, all of these emotions come down like building blocks. “Can you tell us who Hisoka is?”

Hot tears prick the corner of Illumi’s eyes. What does he say? What does he tell them? Hell, what should he? It would have been easier, really, if they had been angry, livid, the way they had been the day before. It would have been easier for him to shout and yell and be furious, but all he finds is fear in response to the softness he was receiving.

He shakes his head.

“Look, I know this is scary. It has to be hard to have these feelings like this, but we know you’re so strong. We know you can push through this.”

The statement hangs in the air. Illumi watches it, watches those words appear in front of him, in spite of everything he had done. He watches them appear in spite of his love for Hisoka.

“No.” He spits the word out like it’s venom, his vision and better judgment clouded by anger. He can’t. He knows that he can’t do it, knows that if he wanted to he should have started trying a long time ago. He’s too deep in now, too in love, and too enamored to ever fix it. 

“I’m… sorry?” Silva breathes.

“I’m sorry, I really am. But,” Illumi runs his tongue across his top teeth. “I can’t. Can’t push through this.” And at that, the tears start to spill down his face. The sobs cause him to shake, trembling in the chair, and staining his pants with droplets of water.

“Come here, Illu,” Kikyo says. She’s holding out her arms, and against his will, Illumi finds himself walking to her. At the end of the day, all he wants is for his mom to hold him and tell him everything is going to be okay. Her arms around his back are gentle, familiar, and yet something in him screams that they are so, so wrong.

He should be fighting back. Thrashing. Kicking. Screaming. He should be telling them no. This? This is everything he never wanted. He wanted a life full of card games and red hair dye and steady hands holding his own as they paint his nails black. Instead, he finds himself slipping back into a mold he promised himself he would never return to.

“We can help you. We will help you.” Silva looks at Illumi. There’s still love in his voice, and Illumi knows he’s doing what he thinks is best. That’s what makes it so much harder. Picking himself off his mother and clearing his head with a shake, Illumi clears his throat.

“You can’t. This is-” His voice cracks, threatening to give out on him when he needs it most. “This is who I am. I can’t do it. I can’t change.”

“Listen to us, Illu. There are people who can help you-”

“Dad-”

“Listen to me, Illu,” Illumi sits back on the floor and fixes his eyes on the carpet. “There are places you can go. We’ve looked into some stuff. It will be good for you! You’ll get to meet other kids who are going through the same things you are. The people there will help you.”

Illumi looks at the ground. Silva is holding out a brochure to him, and he reaches out a shaky hand to take it. The paper crumbles slightly under his grip, and he raises it to his eyes to read.

“What- what is this?”

“It wouldn’t be for very long. A month, two at most. Assuming, that is, that you’re dedicated to changing. And they have good connections! You could get into a great seminary.”

“I don’t… I don’t want to go to seminary.” Illumi decides to focus on the less pressing issue at hand, not trusting himself to say the right things.

“Either way, they’ll help you change.”

“Dad- I…” Something clicks inside Illumi’s brain.

It’s a picture show, snapshots from his life and who he is and has always been. And he’s only happy when he’s with Hisoka. It’s the only place that he loves being. It doesn’t matter where they are. He’s heard about places like these, anyway. He’s heard stories of what it’s like. It had crossed his mind that he might be sent to one. He would kill himself if he ever was, he decided. He would give up if the few things he managed to find joy in were ripped from his hands before he could even hold them tight to his chest and declare his intention to never let go.

“I can’t go. I can’t do it. I’m sorry, I really am-”

“Well, if you’re so sorry then do something about it.” The darkness that he had been expecting to see in his father’s eyes had finally appeared - something ominous swirling in the depths, threatening but not quite violent. Not yet, at least.

“That’s the thing- I can’t. There isn’t anything I or you or anyone else can do-”

“You’re just being stubborn! Stop being such a whiny bitch and let us help you already.”

“You can’t.”

“How do you know that?” Silva’s voice is rising steadily, “How do you know that, Illumi? Have you tried? Have you really, truly tried, because I don’t think you have.”

“I have, f-”

“No. You haven’t. And you’re going to try beca-”

“Stop!” Illumi yells, interrupting his father, “I tried. I tried so hard but this is who I am. I tried and I was miserable, okay? I love Hisoka, I love being this person, even when it’s hard, even when people like you act like this to me- I’m so glad that I’m me.” He can hardly get the words out through the tears. He’s hiccuping and he can taste salt on his tongue and there’s a pit in his stomach that warns that he’s gone too far, gone too far now.

“You’re either going to try,” Silva’s voice has fallen again, and the quiet is somehow scarier than the yelling, “Or you’re going to leave. Because I won’t have… I won’t have a fag as my son.”

He won’t have…

Illumi’s heart skips a beat. Realistically, he had seen this coming, had known that this was a very real possibility, but the gravity of the words had settled far differently from how he had expected them to. And honestly, the worst part was knowing he had a choice.

That was it. Knowing that the question he had been asked might as well determine his entire future. It would. And it might have been coming all along, but that doesn’t mean that it is any easier than it would have been had he not seen it, even when it was a thousand miles away but approaching ever so rapidly over the horizon. The ultimatum had been coming for him, a bullet train speeding closer with every choice he made, with every step he took closer and closer to the tracks until he was standing in the middle and letting himself be hit, flattened to the ground like his heart that had been crushed with just a few words from the man who had claimed to love him past all measurable bounds. 

“And what if I leave?” A dangerous game he’s playing, Illumi is aware of this, knows that he’s so close from having one foot out the door to two, his back turned and eyes set onto the distance. But he has to do something. 

“Then you can leave. If you’re not willing to change then you can get your stuff and go.” 

“Give me my phone.”

“What? No.”

“I need to find a place to stay.” Illumi wipes the tears off his cheeks and watches his mom dig for the phone in a drawer. The realization of his choice started to sink in his gut like a stone, but he pushed onwards. The choice had been made, and he had to go on with it. He had to do it. 

The metal of his phone is cold and his backpack heavy on his shoulders, he walks off to his room and does his best to ignore the hushed whispers that float in the air behind him. The phone’s screen lights up as he presses the power button. His notifications have all been cleared, and his reflection stares up at him from the black lock screen. He fishes through his contacts until he finds Hisoka’s profile. The picture brings him joy if only for a moment, letting him see that there was still someone there. He hits the call button, worried that Hisoka wouldn’t see if he sent him a text.

The phone rings a couple of times before Hisoka picks up, a soft hello sounding through the speaker. Illumi hadn’t considered that his voice would sound a wreck, but he figures it doesn’t matter. Hisoka had seen him a mess earlier that day anyway. He takes a breath.

“Hey, can I… Can I come stay with you? It doesn’t have to be long-term, but I need a place right now.”

“Yeah, of course,” Hisoka responds without any hesitation, the concern laced through his voice evidently. “Stay as long as you need.”

“Thanks. I’ll tell you everything when I get there.”

He hangs up, the silence louder than it ever had been. The creak of his door broke it, sending it shattering into pieces. 

His things sit the same way they had when he had left that morning. His clean clothes are left in the basket he had carried them to his room in, unfolded and surely wrinkled. He can’t begin to figure out what to bring with him. What does one bring with them to start a new life? He throws the things in his bag without bothering to fold them, sort them, or put them in smaller bags. It doesn’t matter. His new life would be chaotic, so why shouldn’t his things reflect that?

He stops by Killua’s room on his way out, not sure if he wants to start a confrontation or just say goodbye. The betrayal had hit like blunt force trauma, but the love he had for his brother still ran deeper than even that.

He knocks on the door and walks in. Killua is sitting on his bed, reading a comic book and listening to music. He’s sitting there like nothing had happened at all. In Killua’s world, maybe nothing had. 

“Kil.”

“Oh- Illumi.” Killua looks up to see his brother and leaves the book resting open against his chest. “What is it?”

“I’m saying goodbye.”

“What? Why?”

“Our parents found something out. I have to go.”

“What did they find out?”

So they hadn’t told him. It shouldn’t come as a shock that they had meant to keep it a secret, tucked away from everyone else, but he had hoped Killua would already know. He considers not telling him at all, just brushing off the question like he had done so many times before, but he knows Killua deserves the truth.

“I’m gay. That’s… that’s why they’re....” He trails off. They’re what? Kicking him out? They weren’t, not really. Not without choice, at least. Nonetheless, that’s what it had come to feel like. 

“Oh.” Killua hesitates. Illumi isn’t sure what to read into it, but he finds it’s best to not even try. “How did they find out?”

“They…” Illumi knows Killua meant no harm. At best, he was being obedient. At worst, he was avoiding getting hit. Illumi knows he’s always been the favorite. He doesn’t want Killua to feel bad, doesn’t want him to let guilt eat him alive. “It’s not important, Kil. Just know I love you. And we’ll still be seeing each other, one way or another.”

Killua stares. What was he supposed to say? What had Illumi expected him to say?

“Okay,” he breathes, “I’ll see you around, Illu. I’m sorry and I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Illumi turns around. He doesn’t even look over his shoulder, doesn’t hesitate. He doesn’t say anything else to Killua. What had been done had been done. The first chapter of his life was about to draw to a close, and there was nothing he could do to stop it from happening.


	16. Stupid Deep

Home.

What is Illumi’s home? Where is it? Is it a house? A place? A person, maybe?

Hisoka’s house is visible through his windshield. He stares at it, his eyes lingering on the twisting staircase in front for just a second too long. The house is covered with a light beige siding and green shutters accompany the square windows. He can’t find it in his chest to imagine that place, that house that he had been to far too few times being his home. He loves Hisoka, sure, but walking into the front door and saying hey, I’m home? That place, those things becoming his home?

At that moment, Illumi wants nothing more than to undo everything he had done over that year. He wants nothing more than to get in a time machine and undo the past, unspeak to Hisoka, unlike his pictures, unkiss him and tell his past self to never ever do anything that would put his world in danger. Because, he would say, it will be so much harder than you ever might have expected. Because you’ll walk out without stopping to think and you’ll never be able to go back. You’ll be stuck living in a house that isn’t yours, with a family that you don’t belong to, and no matter how hard you try you might never be able to replace your family. You’ll never sit through another one of your father’s boring sermons, you’ll never walk in the door and hear Alluka’s laughter fill the hallway, you’ll never pile into the car with the people who raised you and drive ten hours to see your grandparents. Those are the things you’ll be sacrificing. Ask yourself, he’d say, if it’s really worth it all. Illumi fears the answer he would get would be a resounding no. He worries he would be told that no one person, no matter how that person makes him feel, could ever be worth sacrificing so much.

Illumi does the best to push the thoughts out of his mind, or at least to a place where he doesn’t have to pay attention to them. His bags sit next to him in the passenger seat and he takes them with him as he approaches the door. He can see lights on in the house, there are silhouettes moving around, people there. He raises his hand to the doorframe and hesitates. He hasn’t met Hisoka’s father. He had been in the house the morning after, but Illumi had never made contact with him. A sharp rapping sound bounces off the concrete as Illumi sighs and knocks. 

A moment passes by and Illumi hears footsteps approaching. Hisoka is there, his hair wet and falling in strings around his shoulders; he’s wearing a black hoodie with small pink flowers on it. Illumi swallows, his eyes darting to the ground.

“Hey,” he says, his voice coming out quiet and hoarse. He can feel Hisoka’s eyes on him, they’re burning holes into his skull and usually, he’d like it, but he already feels so incredibly vulnerable as is. He trusts Hisoka. He does. But, something about this, something about letting Hisoka see so much… It’s a lot. 

“Do you wanna come in?”

Illumi nods and steps inside. It looks exactly the way he remembers it - not that much would have changed in only a few days anyway. He shakes his head in an attempt to clear it as he turns to Hisoka.

“Can I set my stuff down somewhere? It’s getting really heavy.”

“Yeah, of course. It doesn’t matter where you put it, just take it up to your room later.”

“My… my room?”

“Yeah, we have a spare room.”

Illumi doesn’t seem any less confused. He frowns. His room? Why would he have a room? He hadn’t intended to take advantage of Hisoka’s kindness, hadn’t wanted to stay there for more than a week or so. But it’s his room. Not the guest room, not the spare room. His room. His.

“I didn’t think that you’d want to… Well, I promise I won’t stick around for too long.”

“I already told you, Illu. You can stay as long as you need. As long as you want, really. We don’t mind.”

“We?”

“Yeah, my father and I. He doesn’t care. Speaking of which, you should probably meet him while he’s here.”

Illumi nods and puts his bags on the floor before following Hisoka into the living room. A man with long gray hair is sitting on the couch when he walks in. Hisoka clears his throat and the man looks up, tearing his eyes away from the baking show that was running.

“Hello,” the man says, his voice gruff, “I’m Hiroshi. Morow that is. Hiroshi Morow. You must be Illumi?”

“Yes sir, that would be me.” Illumi straightens out, not wanting Hisoka’s father to kick him out again. It seemed, from Hisoka’s descriptions, that was a rather unlikely situation, but old habits die hard.

“Great! I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“You have?” Hisoka had talked about him? To his father of all people? Illumi had never thought that Hisoka seemed particularly close with his father, but there had to be some sort of relationship there if he had heard about him. What had he said? What kinds of things did Hisoka’s father know about him? Illumi can’t bring himself to ask for details.

“All good things, of course. Don’t worry.” Hiroshi sends a small smile at Illumi and gets a curt nod in response. “Hisoka can show you to your room?”

Illumi puts the weight from his bags back onto his shoulders and he follows Hisoka. The room was situated just across the hall from Hisoka’s own, its walls white and the sheets baby blue. It seemed rather unlived in - no books on the bookshelves and a thick coat of dust covering the dresser and nightstand. Admittedly, Illumi shouldn’t be surprised that they didn’t get many visitors. He hadn’t even heard Hisoka mention other family members, no grandparents or aunts or uncles or cousins and he hadn’t wanted to push if it wasn’t something that the other boy wasn’t comfortable with. 

“Make yourself at home,” Hisoka says. Illumi’s heart skips a beat. It’s silly, sure, to be so overwhelmed in such a short moment by just one word, but it’s there. Home.

“Right. I will…” Illumi swallows, eyes flitting around the room. He sees Hisoka turn to leave, but he reaches out to place a hand on his arm. “Stay? Please?”

“All you ever had to do,” Hisoka chuckles through the words, curving to sit down in a chair, “All you ever have to do is ask.”

“Thanks.”

“Do you want to talk?” Illumi pauses as he hears the words. He’s unzipping his bag and pulling out clothing, but he’s abruptly stuck to the ground, the roots breaking through the wood and wrapping their way around his ankles. “About, well you know…” 

Illumi knows. He does. And he stops and thinks. He does what he wishes he had done when he had been talking to his parents, taking his time and weighing the options in his head. Hisoka is waiting for an answer, he can tell, the question waiting. And he doesn’t know. 

“I-” He chokes on the word, his eyes hitting the ground as he weighs the options because maybe it would help but maybe it would make it all worse and he doesn’t want Hisoka to think that he’s just being used as a therapist. “I don’t want you to feel like I’m just using you to work through all this. That’s not my intention.”

“I wouldn’t think that,” Hisoka whispers, “I’m here for you. I want you to be able to trust me; I want you to be able to tell me these things. But if you want your space, I’ll respect that.”

“No, I just… I just don’t know where to start, you know? How do you start to work through losing your entire family? Where do you even begin? I feel so stupid, I could’ve made everything work, I should have been able to. But I couldn’t.”

“You’re blaming yourself.”

Illumi isn’t sure if it’s a question or a statement. The answer is yes, of course, he is. Of course, he’s blaming himself. He’s the reason he’s in this situation. He’s the reason Hisoka is in this situation. He’s the reason Alluka will grow up with fleeting memories of a boy who is never talked about. She’ll grow up not understanding who that boy was to her, who he could’ve been. She won’t know why her parents sneer every time he’s mentioned, but one day she’ll grow up to be like her parents. One day she’ll sneer at him too, despite never having the chance to love him. Illumi won’t be there to teach her otherwise.

“Yeah. I am.”

“I know I won’t convince you to stop, but you need to hear me when I tell you that it isn’t your fault. None of this is your fault. It never could be.”

“But if I had been smarter… if I wasn’t like this-” If he wasn’t gay. That’s what he wants to say. Or at the very least, if he had never started dating Hisoka. But he doesn’t want to insinuate that he regrets it. He doesn’t, but the situation had called for more delicacy than it was treated with, and everything would have been so much easier if he had been a different person from the get-go. “I have siblings. Young ones. I don't even know if they’ll remember me when they grow up. I just wish… I wish I could’ve watched them grow up.”

“I see…”

“I don’t know what to do. Or where to go. I didn’t think through anything, I just stormed out and now I wish I hadn’t.” Illumi thinks he should be crying. He should be curled in the fetal position on the floor, the seams of the floorboards digging into his back. But he’s not. There are no tears where he expects them to be, only the black hole that sits in their place. “I’m just… I thought I’d be sad. And I am. I’m sad and angry and frustrated but most of all, I’m lost. I don’t know who I am without them. I don’t know who I am anymore.”

Hisoka hums in response, looking at Illumi for more. Illumi’s eyes hit the ground as he searches for the best way to express everything. It would be so much easier to just write it down, turn it into a long letter, have more time to think about how he’s supposed to process everything that has happened.

“There were things I wanted to do with them, Hisoka. We had plans for the future. When Killua and I were younger we made this giant bucket list of all the things we wanted to do together. It’s not like we were ever going to do them all but now… Now we don’t even have the chance.”

“What things were you going to do with him?”

“God, there were so many,” Illumi laughs and rubs his eyes, not wanting to cry again. He’s not going to cry again. “We were going to learn some super rare language so we could talk to each other without other people knowing what we were saying. We were going to go on a road trip, go to Disney World together. We were going to go skydiving and bungee jumping and all of these other crazy things that our parents would yell at us for, but it would be okay because we would do them together. Our relationship deteriorated somewhat in the past few years, but still, we could have…”

“Missed opportunities. It’s okay to mourn those, Illu.”

“And when I was little my parents said they would love me no matter what. They did so much for me before my siblings were born, drove me to all my sports practices, read me stories every night, spoiled me, gave me everything I wanted. If I told that kid that they would take it all back one day…”

As a matter of fact, none of it makes sense. None of it makes any sense at all. They had switched so fast, Illumi had seen it happen. He had seen the change in his father’s eyes the moment he told him that he wouldn’t change. All it took was one sentence for everything to fall apart.

He looks up at the ceiling fan. It, like everything else, is coated with dust. He blinks at the ceiling and stays quiet for quite some time. Faintly, he wonders if it’s not too late. He wonders if it would just be best to break up with Hisoka and go back to his parents and go to that stupid camp and change. Would he be happier? It would be easier if nothing else. He’d never have to worry about where his food was coming from or if he would have a place to stay.

“Were they right?” Illumi hardly notices that he asks the question out loud, his voice barely even a whisper, “They’re my family. Do they know…”

“Your family doesn’t have to be the people you’re related to by blood, Illumi. You’re lost, I know that I understand why but… I’m always here to help you find your way again if you want me to.”

“Please,” Illumi breathes. “You’re the only person I have anymore.” He doesn’t want to guilt-trip Hisoka; he doesn’t want to leave him in a situation where he couldn’t leave if he wanted to, but Illumi doesn’t have any other choice. 

“Let’s just take it all one day at a time, okay? I promise that everything will work out in the long run.”

“Okay,” Illumi nods, “One day at a time. But what…” Illumi halts. But what... What does he do when the days run out? When does he have to start looking to the future? What happens when Hisoka moves away, when he graduates, when he leaves Illumi behind? They're high school sweethearts. Surely it couldn’t last forever. Stories like this couldn’t ever end happily, right? But God, Illumi wants nothing more than a happy ending somehow or another. It doesn’t even matter how he gets there, he just wants to find joy in something.

“What?”

“What do I do when that’s not enough? What do I do when you…” Illumi doesn’t want to say it. The words are stuck in his throat. He sets the clothes on the floor and pushes his hands against his thighs to stand up. “You’re graduating soon.”

“I am, yeah. But the college I’m going to is only an hour away, so I’m still going to be living here. You won’t be alone or anything.”

“You’re not leaving?” Illumi sits back on the bed, his feet grazing the ground. “I thought that you’d…”

“Leave you?” Hisoka breathes out and walks closer to Illumi. “I’m not going to leave you, okay? Even when we aren’t together I won’t leave you.”

“But what about after college? You can’t keep living here forever. And I don’t want to make you live with me for all this time, anyway.”

“After college is five years away, Illu. And you’re not forcing me to do anything. I want to do this.”

Illumi finds it hard to believe. He’s just doing it, just offering to do it without expecting anything in return? It makes no sense. He’s not even sure what he would have done if he were in Hisoka’s shoes. He’d like to think that he would’ve done the same, but isn’t that regarding himself too highly? 

“Are you okay?”

“Can you give me a hug?”

“Of course,” Hisoka says, “You don’t have to ask.”

Illumi stands up again and wraps his arms around Hisoka’s chest. He can faintly hear the steady rhythm of Hisoka’s heartbeat with his cheek pressed against his neck. He’s suddenly both aware of and glad for their height difference, his head fitting snugly under his boyfriend’s. He feels a soft humming as Hisoka hums a song to him that he doesn’t quite recognize.

“Everything is going to be okay. I promise.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hmmm this chapter didn't turn out quite how I wanted but take it anyway. Sorry about it, but hopefully I make up for this arc in the future. For someone who says they're good at angst, I'm really not that good at writing it hahah
> 
> I finally came up with an ending for this story, I'm super excited to write it. How exactly I'll do that I don't know, but then again, I never know what I'm doing here so its okay. Also I have some cool ideas for future fics although some of them are kind of weird, but I think I'll do them anyway
> 
> Thanks, everyone! :D


	17. Sunbeams and Coffee

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A fluff chapter

When Illumi wakes up the next morning his mouth is dry and there’s sleep in the corners of his eyes. The sun is glaring at him through the window; he’s squinting at it and groaning. He reaches for his phone sitting on the windowsill. It’s already ten - how has he slept in so late? And isn’t it a Thursday? He shakes his head, setting it back down and letting his eyes dart around the bedroom. He needs to get out of bed, get to school, start the day fresh and different than the night before had been. Four steps get him to the dresser that sits against the wall.

He knows he looks a mess. He stares back at his reflection in the dirty mirror and screws up his face at the boy he sees staring back. His hair is greasy and tangled and his eyes are puffy, small tear bags having formed underneath them. A shower would help, but he doesn’t want to without asking first, so he settles for running a brush through his hair instead. It’s a pain to get all the tangles out, and he finds himself humming to pass the time. 

There’s a soft knock on his door and he makes a noncommittal sound in response. The door doesn’t make a creaking noise as it swings open, but Illumi can hear footsteps approach him. A look over his shoulder lets him know it’s Hisoka, but he doesn’t hold eye contact for very long. Instead, he puts his brush back into his bag and starts to look through his clothes in an attempt to decide what to wear. 

“Good morning,” A voice comes from behind him, low and crooning. It was still deepened by sleep, evidence that Hisoka hadn’t been awake for much longer than Illumi had. He hums in response, pulling out a pair of sweats and a clean shirt from his bag. There’s no reason, he decides, to get dressed up if it were already this late. Even if it weren’t, he’s not sure he’d be in the mood to get dressed in anything more presentable. Everyone else could deal with it. 

“How are you doing?” Illumi clicks his tongue as he hears the tone of Hisoka’s voice. He doesn’t want to be pitied, but he shrugs off the sinking feeling he gets in his chest.

“I’m okay,” Illumi says, “Why aren’t you at school? Isn’t it a Thursday?”

“I can skip for a day. I don’t mind.”

“Are you sure? I’ll be okay.”

“Yeah, really. It’s fine, I’d rather stay here.” The “with you” isn’t said, but Illumi can practically hear it tagged onto the end of the sentence.

“Okay, then.” Illumi doesn’t want to argue back. He doesn’t have the energy to start a fight over something so trivial. So what if Hisoka wants to take care of him? He’ll have to put up with it. Maybe if he tries hard enough, he’ll start to find himself enjoying it, in spite of his general distaste towards feeling coddled. 

He stands up, the floor cold against his bare feet. The clothes rest in his arms as he gives Hisoka a look. Hisoka cocks his head in return.

“Can you give me a moment to get changed?”

“Oh- Yeah, of course,” Hisoka fiddles with his hands as he responds, turning on his heel and walking out of the room. The door clicks shut behind him. A sigh leaves Illumi’s lips as he throws the clothing onto his bed and begins to change.

As much as he loves living with Hisoka, he’s going to have to talk about some boundaries. They had been dating for a few months, sure, but they’re still not to the point that he wants to spend all of his time with his boyfriend. In all honesty, the idea of ever spending all his time with anyone at all is confusing at best. He needs to have time alone, and he needs Hisoka to understand that. Sighing, Illumi reaches for a hair tie he had left on the nightstand before going to sleep; he pulls his hair into a ponytail that sits at the nape of his neck. 

His feet pitter-patter against the floor as he walks to Hisoka’s door. A sharp sound fills the hall as he knocks against it. The door opens a couple of seconds later, and Hisoka has changed as well, fresh pajamas having replaced the ones he was wearing a few minutes prior.

“Can we…” Illumi trails off, “Can we have breakfast? I’m kind of hungry…”

“Of course,” Hisoka responds with a chuckle. Illumi vaguely wonders if he’s getting laughed at, but he pushes the idea out of his head. Hisoka laughs a lot. That’s just his thing. “You don’t have to ask to get food. Go eat if you’re hungry.”

“Are you sure? I don’t have a job or anything…”

“Yes, Illu. Just go eat. It’s not a big deal. I’ll show you where all the stuff in the kitchen is.” Illumi swallows and nods at the response. 

None of the lights are turned on when they get downstairs. Illumi looks around in curiosity. There’s a dirty coffee pot sitting on a counter, but apart from that, there’s no evidence that the kitchen had even been touched since the night before. Hisoka walks by him to reach up and grab a mug. Illumi watches in silence as Hisoka cleans out the coffee pot and starts new coffee to brew.

“What do you want to eat?”

“Oh, I don’t care. Just make whatever you normally would.”

“Hmm, okay. Do you want any coffee? I can get you a mug.”

Illumi just nods in return, earning a hum of recognition from Hisoka. He pushes against the counter to sit on it again, figuring that it would be okay. After all, he had sat on it the last time he was there and Hisoka hadn’t seemed to mind. Granted, his father was more than likely another story, but…

“Is your dad at work?”

“Yeah. He had to leave early this morning and he won’t get back until late at night. That’s the norm around here, so you might not see him all that often. Don’t worry, though, he likes you.”

“He does? He hardly even knows me.” Illumi frowns. They had only met once, and the meeting was short. How strange to think that someone would have formed an impression of him through such brevity.

“Well, I do...” Hisoka turns when the coffee pot starts beeping. He picks it up and starts to pour it into the mugs he had taken from the cabinet. “I do talk about you sometimes.”

“What kinds of things do you say?” Illumi lets his curiosity get the better of him and he asks the question. 

“I mean…” Hisoka hands Illumi one of the mugs and goes to get creamer out of the fridge. “I don’t know. You make me happy, so I want to talk about you at least a little bit.”

Illumi isn’t used to seeing Hisoka blush. Sure, it’s happened before, but it’s not something that’s enough of a normal occurrence for him to be accustomed to it. He smiles as he sees the warmth spread across his face.

“You’re cute when you get shy,” he says quietly, halfway in hopes that Hisoka won’t hear him. 

“I’m not shy…” Hisoka trails off, earning a lighthearted laugh from Illumi. 

“Whatever you say, there.” Illumi takes the creamer from Hisoka and pours an obscene amount into his coffee. By the time he’s done, the drink is closer to white than black. 

“That’s a lot of creamer you have.”

“I know… it’s kind of embarrassing, but I can’t drink black coffee at all. I like people to think I can, but I hate bitter things. I can’t even drink black tea.”

Illumi sighs as he makes eye contact with Hisoka. He’s taken aback by the pure fondness he finds there. It’s not mocking or playful, despite his earlier tone.

“I like learning things like that.”

“You like learning things like that?” Illumi repeats the sentence back as he raises the mug to his lips. He immediately regrets attempting to take a sip, the much too hot liquid burning his tongue. 

“Yeah,” Hisoka says, “I like learning everything. It’s silly, but I want to know all your favorite things. I want to know everything about you, and that includes your apparent inability to drink anything even remotely bitter. I mean, come on, tea is hardly bitter.”

“Hey, don’t make fun of me for not liking black coffee or tea. Unlike some people, I’m not a masochist.”

“Wow. Honestly, I feel really attacked right now.” The tone of Hisoka’s voice is serious, but Illumi can sense the new mirth in his eyes and just gives a breathless laugh in response. 

“Sorry. What can I say?” Illumi raises the mug to his lips again and flinches when he finds it’s still much too hot. “How did you even manage to make coffee this hot? And how are you drinking it right now?” He marvels as Hisoka takes a long sip of the coffee, seemingly unbothered by its temperature. 

“It’s not even that hot.”

“Seriously? The only way I could drink this is if my mouth were made of asbestos. Which I’ll have you know, it’s not.”

“Thanks for telling me that. I never would have figured out that fun fact,” Hisoka rolls his eyes playfully as he digs through the pantry to pull out a box of pancake mix. He bites the inside of his cheek and he stares at the instructions briefly before getting a bowl to start mixing them together.

Should Illumi ask if he can help? He considers it, but Hisoka would just brush him off and tell him that he doesn’t need any help. Illumi figures he’ll just let Hisoka do it. All considered, it’s a little funny to watch Hisoka attempt to mix pancake batter and end up with mix on his nose. Illumi isn’t sure how someone manages to do that. He jumps off the counter and walks over before running a finger along the tip of Hisoka’s nose. He gets a frown in return. Had he not noticed?

“You had pancake batter on your nose.” Illumi laughs as he watches Hisoka’s face scrunch up.

“I did?”

“Mmm-hmm.”

“How does that even happen,” Hisoka mutters to himself. Illumi isn’t quite sure either. 

“I couldn’t tell you. I’ve never ended up with it on my nose before.”

Illumi considers lacing his fingers through Hisoka’s as he watches his boyfriend attempt to pour the batter into a pan, but he’s concerned enough about his ability to do so without getting a burn as is. He’s digging through a drawer for a spatula, much to Illumi’s amusement.

“Have you ever made these before?”

“Mmmm…” Hisoka makes a noncommittal noise as he continues searching. After a few more seconds he produces a red spatula from the drawer. “Maybe once or twice. Is it that obvious?”

“I don’t know. Guess it was just a gut feeling.” Illumi bites the inside of his cheek as he watches. “Say, could I cook for you sometime?”

“Sure, but you know you don’t owe me anything-”

“I don’t want to because I think I owe you anything,” Illumi starts. He’s not sure if it’s the truth or not, but it’s at least partially right. Anyway, no matter what Hisoka says he does owe him something, right? “I just want to. It could be fun? Like a stay-at-home date night?”

“Oh. Sorry, you’re right. That would be fun, so let’s do it some time.”

“You don’t have to apologize, silly.” Illumi takes a finished pancake from Hisoka as it comes off the stove. Thankfully, it’s not too hot when he bites into it, unlike the coffee. He’s somewhat surprised that it isn’t burnt at all. He wouldn’t admit it to Hisoka, but his expectations hadn’t been particularly high for… obvious reasons.

“You’re not going to get a fork?” Illumi jumps as he hears Hisoka ask him the question.

“No? It’s more fun this way. Just pick it up.”

“Just… pick it up?”

“Yeah.”

He laughs as he watches Hisoka pick up the pancake and eat it with his hands, in a similar manner to what Illumi had been doing. It’s strange to see him like this - so scared of even picking up a pancake. He had never gotten the impression that Hisoka had a strict upbringing, but he’s watching him marvel at the thought of eating food with his hands.

****

Not so long after, Illumi finds himself in his room again. The silence falls like ash on the furniture, turning him and all of his belongings into fossils. It’s easier to think in the silence. That really sucks, Illumi decides, because that’s the last thing he wants to be doing right now. It's a conundrum, isn’t it? He wants to be alone, needs to be alone, but the moment he is his mind starts running far too fast for him to keep up with. He settles for playing music instead. He chooses his favorite songs instead of listening to his thoughts - the kind that seeps into your bones and stays with you even once the three minutes and twenty-four seconds have long since passed.

And he stares at the ceiling. Illumi sits and lays and stares because he won’t think about it right now. He can’t. Despite knowing he’ll have to press through them one day, he can’t listen to his thoughts. He can’t wade into the ocean just yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure how some people write such good domestic fluff. It's honestly amazing.
> 
> I finally decided on an ending, and I'm excited to set it into motion. I also have a Yuri on Ice fic in the planning stage and I cannot express how much I want to start writing it. It might not be great, but this is the first time in a while I've legitimately looked forward to writing a new fic.
> 
> And thank you if you've made it this far!! Crazy that y'all have stuck through this :/


End file.
